


Taylor Calvert

by RavensDagger



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Descent into Villainy, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Minor AU, No Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-10-31 12:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17849075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavensDagger/pseuds/RavensDagger
Summary: After both of her parents are found dead in a lethal car crash, a now orphaned Taylor Hebert triggers. She is adopted by Thomas Calvert who allows his newest pet to become one of his greatest lieutenants and assets as he prepares to take over Brockton Bay.A Crosspost from Spacebattles.com





	1. Chapter 1

Thomas Calvert was a man who was always on the lookout for opportunities.

He had plans within plans, movements and shifts that would only come to fruition years from now. He had invested time, money and effort into building the foundations of his empire. It would take years before he was ready to take Brockton Bay, but in the meantime he was always watching, always keeping an ear to the ground to make sure that he wouldn’t miss anything.

It was because of this that he was one of the first to learn about the girl that would become his new pet. An abnormal report, sent by an overworked and underpaid clerk at one of the Bay’s smaller hospitals.

A car crash. Two dead. One injured. The kind of thing that happened everyday, an event so mundane that it wouldn’t even rate the evening news, not unless one of the deceased was a noteworthy person. That wasn’t the case.

The woman was a professor at the local college, the man an office worker for the dockworkers union. Nobodies. But they had a daughter. Eleven years old, still in school.

Thomas licked dry lips and narrowed his eyes as he read over the more interesting parts of the report.

It was, in a perfect world, the sort of report that would go from the hospital, to the PRT, up the chain of command, and eventually land on the desk of one of the director’s deputies. In a perfect world, a squad of PRT personnel would then rush over to the hospital ahead of the CPS and Youth Guard to secure what might be a future asset.

But the world was far from perfect, and Brockton Bay was even further still.

No, the director would never learn about Taylor Hebert and what she did to her parents.

-Four Years Later-

Lisa, and it was Lisa now, was nervous.

It wasn’t everyday that you were accosted at gunpoint and told to follow some well dressed men into an unmarked van.

It wasn’t her parents. They would never shell out the kind of cash to get people this professional to find and grab her. She ruled out the PRT and ABB soon enough. Too well armed and not nearly Asian enough. They looked professional, and sober, so they weren’t Merchants.

That left the E88, if she was remembering her Brockton Bay gangs properly. Or maybe Accord. This was only a few hours from Boston and he was just the sort to extend his reach this far to grab a Thinker off the streets.

She had to rein in her power, to keep a lid on it lest it go wild and try to learn things that she was certainly going to find out soon enough. Sarah, no, Lisawasn’t the kind of girl that would panic needlessly. This was probably one of those few times where it was okay to admit that she was terrified.

“Put this on,” one of the men said. He pushed a thick wad of cloth into hands that shook.

Lisa unfolded it, expecting a balaclava, something that would act as a mask, only to find that it was a tight black sock. No holes for the eyes or mouth, just thick breathable material like coarse wool. “Do I have to?” She asked while already knowing the answer.

They stared at her, three men in suits tailored to hide the guns they doubtlessly carried. Their sunglasses revealing nothing of their eyes but the firm lines of their mouths told her everything she had to know. Swallowing, Lisa pulled the sock over her head. She felt like someone walking to their execution. For all she knew that was exactly what was happening.

The van took a few turns, slipped off the main road and through what she felt was an alley, then stopped before backing up back onto a street. They were backtracking, moving over the same spot twice to make her lose track of them, and it was working. If she was more familiar with the Bay, and didn’t have a sock on her head and the start of a splitting headache, then maybe she could have figured out where she was being led, and from that she could have deduced who was dragging her around.

As it was, the suspicion that she was going to find out the hard way was creeping up her spine.

The van moved down an incline that levelled off a moment before it came to a full stop. The engine muttered before dying and soon all Lisa could hear was the breathing of the men around her and the hummingbird beat of her heart.

“Out,” one of them said. A hand grabbed her elbow and she was guided, surprisingly gently, out of the van.

Her sneakers thumped against a cement floor. The room she was in was large, probably subterranean. Her guard made her stop with a hand on her shoulder.

Two more men joined her. Heavy boots walking in rhythm. Her kidnappers backed off and returned to their van. She had traded guards. This was organized, planned even. Three men in similar suits. Not uniforms. Two more with nearly identical boots. Those were probably in a sort of uniform. Uniforms meant organization, meant resources. It didn’t rule out Accord or the E88.

Swallowing past a dry throat, Lisa shuffled between her new guards. She couldn’t tell if they were armed or not, but it wasn’t a bet she was willing to make.

“This way,” one of them said and Lisa was surprised to hear a feminine voice. The grip on her elbow was just as strong though as she was led deeper into whatever lair they had brought her to.

She focused on her breathing. She had to, it was that or begin hyperventilating.

Finally, after they had walked around a building whose size daunted her, Lisa was brought into a smaller room. “Hands on the table,” the feminine voice said. “Legs apart.”

Lisa grit her teeth as she was expertly frisked. They took the two phones she had on her, the wallet that she’d stolen that very morning and the knife tucked inside her sock. The woman searching her even found the wad of cash tucked into the strap of her bra. It was insulting, it was undignified, and yet Lisa couldn’t do anything but bear it as unfamiliar hands ran over her body.

“Sit.” She was pushed back, the scraping of steel on cement the only warning that there was a chair behind her before it collided with the back of her knees and she fell into an uncomfortable, straight-backed seat.

Her hands were placed on the table before her. She waited, expecting to hear something, a threat to behave or the cocking of a gun. Instead heavy boots exited the room and the door shut with a dull thump.

Lisa fidgeted. A minute passed, then two.

The seat was digging into her upper back but she didn’t dare slouch.

She had to keep a lid on her powers. They wanted to learn everything about her surroundings but she knew that with so little to draw on all she would do was give herself a headache.

She had to wait. She could plot her escape once she knew who had captured her and what they wanted. She would have to gauge whether to over or under play her powers. Then what? Contact the PRT maybe?

They would try and force her into their little Girl Scouts program, but compared to playing waiting games in some unknown villain’s lair, going from door to door and espousing the good of the Protectorate sounded better by the minute.

The door opened. A huff of exhaled air. “Oh, for the love of...” a female voice, young, distorted by a mask.

“You can take that off,” she said. “And you don’t need to sit so stiffly, god knows I would want to slouch in your position.”

There was a clatter as a bunch of things were dropped on the table. Slowly, Lisa reached up and tore the sock off her head. It made a mess of her hair, she thought.

She blinked against the bright fluorescent light.

“Better?” The girl across from her asked.

She was tall, Lisa noticed first. At least half a head more than her, and the helmet she wore gave her an extra inch or two. It was an imposing costume, all whites and greys, like the reverse of Alexandria’s iconic outfit, but where Alexandria’s suit was cut to look imposing and sleek, the girl across from Lisa wore a costume that hid practicality behind sharp militaristic lines and armoured plates. Her helmet was hooded, with a full face visor that reflected the room’s artificial light where it wasn’t cast in shadow. She was also, Lisa noticed, wearing a sort of crown around her forehead with the symbol of a chess piece at the very front.

They were alone in the room, though Lisa couldn’t help but notice the camera pointed right at her from one corner of the ceiling.

“I want to extend our apologies,” the cape said. Lisa’s attention snapped back to her and she had the impression that the cape was amused. “We had been keeping an eye on you, Miss Livsey, ever since you started prowling around the Bay.” She tapped her forefingers on the table and Lisa noticed the pile of stuff left between the two of them. A wallet, black leather and engraved, a wad of crumpled cash, a pair of smartphones and one small knife. The cape pushed it all closer to Lisa’s side of the table. “This is all yours,” she said.

“Thanks,” Lisa said, her first words since entering the base. She didn’t move to touch any of the things on the table. Instead she continued to study the cape.

She shook her head once, as if disappointed about something, but Lisa couldn’t guess what. “Are you familiar with the unwritten rules?”

“A little,” Lisa admitted.

“Well then, Sarah,” the cape said. “We have not only done you a great disservice by taking you against your will, we also did so while you were in your civilian identity.”

Not that she had a cape identity, Lisa thought. “Yeah.” She wanted to scream at the cape, to rail at the injustice of it all, but she had more common sense than that. The cape could play at being civil all she wanted, she still had Lisa over a barrel.

The cape reached up and into her hood. Something clicked and she pulled the hood back, revealing the way her helmet wrapped all the way around her head. Then, with deft fingers, the cape undid a clasp and pulled the helmet off.

She was younger than Lisa had imagined. Fifteen, maybe sixteen. Brown hair, cut short, hung around the base of her neck in gentle curves until the cape ran a gloved hand through it. She had dark eyes with the telltale shine of someone wearing contacts and a wide mouth with just a touch of lipstick to make her lips seem fuller. “Hello, I’m Taylor, Taylor Calvert.”

Lisa stared for a moment. There was a tinny sound from the helmet on the table between them. Someone was angry that Taylor had removed her mask, that she had so easily given away her identity.

“I go by Lisa now,” Lisa said.

Taylor only smiled wider. “Lisa it is, then. If you want, we could help you build a proper false identity.”

Lisa wouldn’t take them up on the offer. “Who are you? You’re not Empire, and I don’t think you work for Accord.”

Taylor’s smile grew wry. “You know, it’s ironic that you mention Uncle Accord, he was quite interested in you.”

Lisa felt the growing pit in her stomach grow cold.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think you would be a good fit. I discouraged him already. That just leaves you in our care.”

“You still haven’t told me who you are.”

“Our organization doesn’t really use a name,” Taylor, if that was her name, admitted.

Lisa wanted to curl up and cradle her head. She was pushing her power too much too quickly. Instead she stared right into the cape’s amused eyes and glared. “I want to leave,” Lisa said.

There wasn’t a chance in hell that they were going to just let her go. Capes were precious resources. Thinkers especially so. It would be the same as her parents. They would use her power to get stronger while she suffered in quiet. But she was crafty. She’d been living on the streets for some time now. She’d figure a way out of it.

“Very well,” Taylor said. “I’ll have Isabelle escort you out. Did you want to be dropped back at the boardwalk or would you rather we bring you elsewhere?”

Lisa stared. It was genuine. Or her powers read it as such. Then she saw the cape reaching for something under the table and she tensed. Her powers had been wrong before, especially when dealing with sociopaths who believed what they said. The girl dropped an envelope on the table. It was a standard banking letter, the little holes in its side showing hints of green within.

The cape pushed it closer to Lisa. She watched the cape, then the envelope with its open top. Carefully, Lisa reached out and pulled the envelope closer. A stack of twenty dollar bills thicker than her thumb poked out of the top.

“Two thousand, in unmarked, non sequential bills.” Taylor tilted her head to one side. “Think of it as an apology for kidnapping you, and maybe as hush money for not telling the white hats that we exist.”

Lisa ran her thumb through the cash, almost not believing that it was there. It wasn’t a lot of money, in the long run, but it was enough to get a decent room for a week, or to buy a few dozen proper meals and some clothes. Her power wasn’t helping. It screamed that the girl across from her was telling the truth, that she wanted Lisa to take the money and be happy with it. “What’s the catch?”

“There is none.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!”

Taylor smiled, a small thing, but knowing. “Very well. If you want there to be a catch... our intentions were to approach you with an offer of employment. That same amount, once a month, as a retainer. More if and when you helped us with some problems.”

“You’re super villains,” Lisa accused.

“No Lisa, we haven’t been caught commiting a single crime beyond your unfortunate capture, and that was a mistake. Someone was a little too eager for his own good. We haven’t been labelled as super villains yet.”

“Yet. People who go around kidnapping girls and throwing around this sort of money aren’t on the right side of the law,” Lisa said. Almost, she threw the wad of money at Taylor, but a little voice in the back of her mind reminded her that it was two thousand dollars.

“Yet,” Taylor acquiesced easily. “We want to change things, to make things better in Brockton Bay. The way the heroes are going about it is ineffective.”

“And you think you can do better?” Lisa shot back. She seethed at the arrogance the girl displayed, a girl at least a year her junior.

Taylor leaned forwards and there was a gleam of something predatory in her eyes. “Tell me, Lisa, if I gave you a million dollars in hard cash and told you to fix the gang problem in Brockton Bay, how much good could you do? How about ten million? What if I gave you an army of mercenaries too, armed with Tinkertech? A few corporations that have political influence? A couple of moderately powerful capes? The support of a few loyal independents? Could you improve the Bay? Could you make it so that the people who live here are safer, in better health, less likely to die as bystanders in a cape fight or take their own lives because all they see is their city going to hell?”

Lisa swallowed. She could see the fervor in the cape’s eyes. More, she could imagine the kinds of things she would do with those resources. The problem would be getting them to start with, but with what little she’d seen of the base, the guards and the small pile of cash on the table so far, it wasn’t hard to imagine that the girl across from her had all of that already.

She was good, Lisa admitted. She had put her on the back foot, then presented her with the kind of opportunity Lisa had been silently craving for a long time now. With that kind of power, Lisa could do so much. She didn’t know, exactly, what she would even want to do, but it would be impressive.

“I-I just want to leave,” her mouth said.

Taylor nodded. “That’s fair.” She reached down and into the folds of her costume, then, with a gesture that had the careless look of something practiced to perfection, she flicked a card onto the table.

The card slid to a stop before Lisa, right next to the opened envelope of cash and with its script right-side up.

White Queen

Two words that took up the entire card. Lisa picked it up and flipped it over. Contact information. A PHO account, a phone number.

“Again, I’m sorry that we ended up meeting this way. It would have been far easier to convince you to join our side had we met under better circumstances, I think,” Taylor said. “But things don’t always work out the way we want them to. I’ll have Isabella escort you out. I’m afraid that you might have to wear a blindfold part of the way. We can’t afford to have you leak out too much information about us. You of all people can understand what a dedicated Thinker could do with that kind of information.”

Lisa slid the card into the envelope with the cash and then stuffed both into her jacket. She started collecting the rest of her things. The wad of cash she’d worked so hard to get seemed like a pittance next to the money burning in her jacket. “Th-thanks,” she said.

Taylor nodded once, then slid her mask back on with a hiss and click. Soon, all Lisa could see was her own reflection in the visor. “If you’re ever in a difficult situation, feel free to give me a call. The offer for employment is still on the table, and our resources are quite extensive. If you need something, there’s a good chance we can get it for you.”

The unspoken ‘at a price’ hung in the air but Lisa heard it all the same.

Taylor, no, White Queen, spun on a heel and walked out of the room with the sort of casual grace that Lisa had only seen in fighters and dancers. For all of her eloquence, Lisa doubted that the girl was a dancer.

The door didn’t click shut before a woman stepped in. She wore a black vest over a jumpsuit covered in tiny white and grey squares. The urban camouflage did nothing to hide the handgun at her side or the rifle slung over her back. She stared at Lisa with surprisingly gentle blue eyes framed in blonde hair that was brown near the roots. “White Queen said that you were to be escorted out,” she said.

“Yeah,” Lisa agreed while trying to hide the growing pangs that ran through her temples. “Yeah, get me out of here.”


	2. Chapter 2

“That was unwise,” he said to the young woman standing at parade rest across from his desk.

Her lips twitched into a knowing smile. “It’s for the better. Your method was likely to have her bite the hand that fed her.”

He felt his eyes narrow under his mask. She was taking risks again, and while they might pay off he couldn’t afford to make that kind of mistake. “She’s a vulnerability now.”

“It’s a small risk. My identity was never going to stay secret. Don’t worry so much, I have eyes on her.”

He waited, the only sound in his office the low thrum of the ventilation. “And the other recruits?”

She relaxed. Not so much that most would notice, but he was not most, and he had practically raised her himself. “My first interview is tomorrow afternoon. I’ll send the usual message before it starts."

“Very well.” It was a dismissal.

Thomas watched his most prized and troublesome pet leave.

***

“Hello, Mr. Grue. Please, sit, sit,” the young woman across the table said. She gestured towards a plush seat with a straight back. The kind of seat you’d expect in a high class restaurant, or maybe in a private manor.

Brian was not one used to luxuries. Still, he pulled the seat back and sat down, eyes never leaving the young woman across from him or the three standing behind her.

One was another woman, maybe in her mid to late thirties. She was wearing a black vest over an urban camouflage jumpsuit and held herself with a straight back posture he recognized from some of his father’s old military friends. Her eyes were hidden behind blue tinted glasses, the sort he’d seen in firing ranges, but he knew that she was staring him down. For a moment, his attention strayed to the symbol of a rook in a shield on her arm.

Next to the walls at the far end of the room were two men. Both had their faces hidden by angular helmets not dissimilar to those worn by PRT troopers. They also wore thick pauldrons and squarish armour over their chest and thighs. They had little pawns etched into the front of their armour.

The fact that no one in the room was visibly armed didn’t reassure him. The two in the back weren’t moving at all, the kind of thing you’d expect from a statue and not a living, breathing person, while the woman with the glasses twitched, her attention constantly shifting.

And finally there was the woman sitting across from him. Her face was mostly clear, only covered by a visor that hid her eyes, but the hood and crown she wore cast just enough of a shadow over her features that it made them difficult to read. All but her smile, which had not wavered since he’d walked into the room. “Now that we are all comfortable,’ she began, “I would like to extend my thanks, Mr. Grue, for attending this meeting. I know that it was something of a risk for you to come here.”

“I took precautions,” he said. His voice dipped down an octave or two and he allowed a burst of his darkness to smoke out of his biker’s helmet.

“Indeed. Very wise of you.” Her smile seemed to grow for a moment and he wondered if she knew just how little he trusted his own precautions. He wasn’t a man with very many friends, and none of those could do much against a group that looked as organized as this one.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” he asked. His reputation as someone that was rather gruff was already cemented, it wouldn’t hurt to improve it some more.

“Why, Mr. Grue, I wanted to invite you to join an... initiative. The project is called Errant, and I think you would be a perfect fit as its leader.”

***

Jean-Paul kicked his feet against the foot of the booth. He reached out to what was left of his root-beer float, twisted it around so that the straw slid into his mouth, and took a long pull.

If the girl sitting across from him was bothered by the slurping sound she didn’t make a move to show it. In fact, all she did was smile kindly at him.

She was unnerving. Like some of the women his dad took to take care for him and his siblings. Always nice, always gentle, but in the end they didn’t give half a shit about you.

Still, she was making an effort.

He grabbed a handful of fries and stuffed them into his mouth. “Will I have to wear a costume?”

“Only if you want to,” she said. “Though, from what I understand, it might be in your best interests to keep your identity hidden.”

He paused between one bite and the next, but kept on munching as soon as he got over the surprise. So, she knew more about him than he did her.

Maybe he should have been surprised that a random girl would sit across from him and offer to pay for his meal if he just listened to her, but really, he wasn’t. That was the sort of bullshit that happened with capes around.

What really worried him were the two man-shaped things hanging around a few tables away. Oh, they looked perfectly normal. Just two chumps in jeans and canvas jackets out for a meal. But their nerves were all wrong. They had come in with her.

‘Hmm,” he finally said. “And you’ll pay me how much?”

“Two thousand dollars a month on the first of every month, plus a five thousand dollar signing bonus. We can also offer some other services, free of charge.”

He stared at her, then took another fry, dipped it in ketchup and bit it in half.

“For example we could build you a new identity. And a new face. In fact, we would appreciate the opportunity to make Alec real, and make Jean-Paul Vasil disappear forever.”

Jean-Paul paused again, a fry halfway to his mouth. He dropped the fry back on his plate. “Three thousand.”

Her smile turned predatory.

***

She was still talking.

Rachel stared at the girl, her brow growing heavier and her lips pulling back from her teeth. And the girl, just, talked. Always showing her teeth, always with that look and that voice that said that she knew better than Rachel.

She would have sicced Brutus on her if there wasn’t something wrong with the two... things behind her.

The other woman was fine. She was stiff and all, but she was doing what the girl wanted.

“--And of course, we will make room for your dogs,” she continued saying.

“No,” Rachel said.

The girl tilted her head to one side, her smile fading a little. “Are you certain? The money, the safety, it would all be in your--”

“I said no,” Rachel growled back. She took a half step towards the girl and her dogs growled with her, but the two things behind the girl twitched and Rachel found herself pausing.

She eyed the girl as she backed away and out of the warehouse that Rachel had come to call home. When the girl and her things were out of sight, Rachel started packing.

***

Emily wasn’t expecting guests. Not that strange people didn’t pass by at every odd hour of the day. The motel she’d rented was hardly luxurious, and every day she spent there made her miss her home all the more.

But there was little to be done. The insurance on her dorm room covered everything from Slaughterhouse Nine visits to the bloody Simurgh coming around for tea, but apparently common house fires weren’t on the list.

She wasn’t about to admit that she might have been the cause of those same fires. She still wasn’t comfortable with the idea, even after a week.

Licking lips that, no matter what she did, felt too moist, Emily looked through the peephole to the steps in front of her motel room. A young woman was standing there, attention wandering while another, older woman waited just a few steps behind with her hands folded at her back and her legs placed in a wide stance.

Emily tried to see further out, but the dirty peephole wasn’t the best tool for that. For all she knew, a PRT van was parked just outside her range of sight. Or worse. The two might have been Empire Eighty Eight. She was white enough to fit the bill. Though she doubted they would try and force her. Maybe.

Swallowing back some of the tasteless bile that always rose up her throat when she was nervous, Emily made sure the chain on her door was secure before unlocking the bolt and opening it as far as it would go. “H-hello?” she asked.

“Hi, are you miss Emily Waterson?” the girl across from her asked.

Emily eyed her for a moment. She was a few years her junior, hardly old enough to be out of highschool, and wearing the sort of casual but tasteful clothes that only came with three-figure price tags. “Um, yes?” she replied.

The girl’s shoulders slumped in relief and she gave Emily a wry smile. “Brilliant. My name’s Taylor. I wanted to talk to you, if you have a moment?”

Emily eyed the girl, then the older woman behind her. She really shouldn’t be letting a stranger into her home, even if her home was a forty-dollar-a-night three-star motel just barely in the good part of the city.

Taylor seemed to understand because she turned to her friend and shook her head. “Isabelle, could you go wait in the car? I’ll be fine.”

The woman seemed to hesitate, but she finally gave in with a single, serious nod, spun on her heel, and walked off.

Feeling somewhat safer, Emily unhooked the chain and opened the door just a bit wider. “Come in. It’s... well, it’s not too pretty, but it’s a place to stay.”

Taylor smiled again, and it was much warmer this time. “Thanks, Emily. You didn’t have to be so cordial.”

“Nonsense,” Emily said. She felt a little heat on her cheeks but quickly dismissed it. A compliment from a teenager shouldn’t have had her blushing. Instead, she lead Taylor towards the dining/living-room table. “Did you want to sit?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

Once the two were seated across from each other, Emily realized that she had nothing to say. In fact, she still didn’t know why this Taylor girl had walked into her home. “So, um, you... wanted to talk?” she said. She was proud of the way her voice didn’t squeak.

“I did,” Taylor admitted. She bit her lower lip, then focused on the table between the two of them. “Okay, so, cards on the table, Emily. I’m a cape.”

Emily felt her blood run cold, then a familiar, dreadful warmth started in the pit of her stomach. “O-oh?”

“And I know that you’re a cape too,” Taylor continued. She raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. “That’s why I came here. I, we, don’t mean you any harm, Emily. Quite the opposite. I came here to give you a head’s up.”

“You came here to warn me?” Emily said. She was ready to spring out of her chair, to run towards the door and hope that Taylor, if that was her name, didn’t have any friends waiting out the back.

“Sort of?” Taylor said. “Look, me and mine, we’re very quiet, we’re discrete. We’re not members of the Empire or ABB or Merchants, nor are we affiliated with the Protectorate or PRT. We’re just a group of people, some of us capes, that want to make the Bay a bit better. And when we found out about you, well...”

“Y-you want me to join you?”

Taylor chuckled and let her hands down. Somehow that lessened the tension in Emily’s stomach too. “Not quite. Though it would be nice. No, we’re here to tell you that if we found out, so will the others. Our information network is probably the best in the Bay, but the Empire, PRT and ABB are probably not far behind.”

“Oh god,” Emily said. She brought her hands up, pressing them against her mouth. She wanted to vomit, to run and hide, to stay planted on the spot and scream. Instead of all that, she stared at the girl in front of her with a mixture of dread and horror.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Taylor said. “It’s fine, you still have time.”

“You’re right. I can pack my things, I can still leave,” she said. But she didn’t want to. She was still a student here, she had friends and family. And what if they targeted her family to get to her?

“Emily,” Taylor said while grabbing both of her hands, and she was startled to realize that the girl had snuck up on her. “You’re panicking. Don’t, please, it’ll be alright.”

“No, no it won’t,” Emily said. She had done horrible things, bad things, and now it was going to catch up to her.

She felt two strong arms wrapping themselves around her shoulders and a headful of curly brown hair was pressed up against her cheek. “Emily, I know you don’t know me, and you have no reason to trust me, but, I have a place where you can stay. It’s safe. Safer than here, at least. And you can call your family if you want. In fact, I could introduce you to other people like you.”

Emily pulled away from the hug. It was a nice gesture, a kind one. The sort of thing Emily had done for others countless times in order to reassure them. “Thank you. Can I think on it?”

Taylor smiled. “I’ll give you my number and the address of a safehouse. Don’t worry, Emily, we keep our friends safe.”


	3. Chapter 3

Taylor Calvert: Chapter Three

“And that concludes our financial reports for this quarter,” Edgar said before sitting back down. The monitor behind him displayed a rather bland grey on grey spreadsheet for a few more seconds before clicking off and letting the circular room once more sink into semi-darkness.

Taylor was always getting on his case about all of his plans being too ‘Bond-villain-like’ but it lent a certain flair that Thomas enjoyed. “Thank you, Edgar,” he said before turning his attention to the others gathered around the oval table.

Isabelle was at Taylor’s right, where she had been for a few years now. She was, perhaps, his pet’s most loyal ally. Then again, Taylor had a knack for worming her way into people’s affections and confidences. Most of the agents in the room were probably loyal to his money first and Taylor’s charisma second.

But in the end, she was loyal to him, and was all that really mattered. “Very well. We are starting to move forwards on a few operations in the coming weeks. I expect the financial side of things to take a hit. Can you keep me apprised if we start losing too much?”

“Yes sir,” his advisor said.

“Good.” Past entwined fingers, Thomas turned his visored gaze to another man. “And the construction?”

The man nodded. “On time. The main base should be completed by late May, barring any unforeseen circumstances. Bases Beta and Ceti are up and running at full efficiency. There were some delays over the procurement of terrain outside the city for base Delta. The schedule suggested that construction start by the end of this month but I don’t believe that will be possible.”

“Hrm. Send me the details on the delays for Delta. I’ll see if we can’t clear things up. Focus on our primary base of operations. What about the lair?”

“Redmond Welding building, sir. An old factory on the edges of the docks between our territory and the ABB’s. It’s fairly close to a police department and in a quiet section of town. We had no issue bringing in supplies under the guise of being prospectors looking to purchase the building. The suits should be ready by the end of the week, again, barring any unforeseen circumstances.”

Such as Lung, Thomas knew. But the dragon was busy elsewhere consolidating one of his whorehouses that had gone rogue right across the city from there. “Perfect. Keep me apprised of any changes.” He undid the arch that his fingers had been in and cracked each knuckle one at a time. “Very well. You are all dismissed. Good work.”

There was a murmur of ‘thank yous’ and ‘yessirs’ as his advisors stood and shuffled out of the room.

Taylor stayed in her seat. She nodded or smiled at the men and women that walked past her in turn. A small gesture, but the sort that would help her cement her place by his side.

The door shut behind Isabelle, the last to leave.

“Pet,” he said.

“Dad,” she said, stressing the word in a way that she knew annoyed him. “Don’t call me that.”

“There’s no one here to hear us,” he said.

His pet rolled her eyes. “If you keep the habit of saying it, one day you’ll slip while unfriendly ears are around, and that would be mortifying. C’mon dad, it’s basic Op-Sec.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The gesture was far too juvenile. “Tell me about Operation Errant Knight.”

His pet was suddenly all business, sitting straighter in her seat and staring at a point past his shoulder. “As of 1600 hours last night the last prospective member for Operation Errant Knight was contacted. We have a tentative agreement on the memberships of Dark Knight and Body Knight. Secret Knight was captured and released, as you well know. Dog Knight was contacted but showed overt hostility and has since moved from her last location. I also took the initiative to contact one more potential operative, tentatively named Flame Knight.”

“Flame Knight?”

“One Emily Waterson. She has a sort of fire-based blaster power. What information we have on her suggests, and my own assessment agrees, that she is a very shy young woman. She was in the music program at the local college.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And yet you want her on the team?”

“I think she will be a very reluctant member. I suggest holding her back from any heists while making it clear that there is no need for her to participate. Let the others grow fond of her and vice-versa. The moment one of the other Knights is injured in the line of duty she will probably fold and begin participating. It will require some time, but it’s better than forcing her into compliance.”

Ah, he saw a reference to his own actions in her words. “And the Secret Knight?”

“Sent on her way with my contact information. She’ll call.”

“Are you certain?” he said while entwining his fingers again. “She poses quite the risk right now.”

His pet nodded. “If she doesn’t it’s because she went dark.”

“In which case we lost a valuable tool that we literally had in our grasp.”

She shook her head. “Better that she work for us willingly, no matter how reluctant she might be, than have her work for us under threat. She’s a Thinker, and everything suggests that she’s a good one. She would eventually turn around and bite.”

“Very well. We’ll have to see how it pans out. Either way, it is far too late to continue along our original plan for h--”

A phone rang.

Taylor blinked, then stared down at the fold of her costume. She reached into the armoured breastplate and pulled out a sleek smartphone. A smile grew on her face. “Ah, it’s my little Tattletale. Just on time too,” she said before flicking at the screen with her thumb and pressing the phone to her ear. She had waited exactly three rings before answering. “This is Taylor.”

He watched her eyes, the way they shifted from smug joy to concern to the kind of determination that made even he wary of his pet.

The line went dead and she slid the phone back into its place. “I have to go,” she said. “It seems as if our newest knight has run into a spot of trouble.”

***

It hurt.

It was nothing like the wounds she’d seen on TV or read of in books. No, getting shot was a thousand times worse.

Lisa pressed a hand against the gap in her chest and moaned when a fresh pulse of searing pain ran up her body. She wanted to curl up in a tight ball and just let it all go, but she couldn’t. Her phone slipped from numb fingers and clattered to the ground, the sharp crack of a broken screen sounding out in the alley.

Blinking past watery eyes, Lisa ignored the slumped form laying at her feet, she ignored the gun that still smoked between them, she told her power to shut up, because if she let it loose it would start telling her all sorts of horrible things about the man she’d just shot.

It wasn’t her fault. Not really. In a court of law she would get away with a self-defence charge. He had come after her with a gun, not the other way around. And by the look of him--the bald head, the tattoo just barely visible near his collar--he was a textbook Empire Eighty Eight thug.

Lisa cried out as she took a few steps towards the end of the alley. Her mind was fuzzy, which wasn’t a good sign, and her hands were sticky with her own blood.

She stumbled towards the exit, towards the brighter street from which she’d run. Maybe the gunshot had alerted someone, maybe the police were on their way.

A shadow filled the alley entrance. Broad shoulders, tall, no hair. Her powers filled in the rest for her before she had time to think it through herself. “There you are... Richie?” the man blocking her path said.

She blinked through eyes that felt like lead weights and saw the way he focused on the body behind her. Then narrowed eyes snapped up to her. “You killed him,” he said.

Lisa couldn’t run. But she tried.

Five steps, each one sending a lance of pain up her chest. Ten steps and she was bowled over by the need to vomit. Fifteen and she heard a loud crack behind her.

She fell.

The dark swallowed her.

Sarah Livsey died.

***

Mucho thanks to eschwartz and ChaoticSky for making the story easier on the eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Taylor Calvert: Chapter Four

Isabelle waited for Taylor to buckle herself in before squeezing the gas pedal and moving them along. From behind the partition that divided the front and back of the van she heard a few grunts as the boys were jostled around.

Taylor fiddled with her phone for a moment before hooking it to the console in such a way that Isabelle could read the screen and the map displayed on it. “I’ve got it,” Isabelle said before returning her focus to the road.

This wasn’t so unusual, Taylor grabbing her for a last minute adventure. Of course, it usually ended with them chasing false leads, or merely touring the city and making contact with interesting people.

Isabelle didn’t mind. For Taylor she would do almost anything. The girl was like a second daughter, a friend, and a leader rolled into one. She didn’t know what word to use, exactly, to describe her relationship to the girl sitting next to her, but it was certainly not something common.

It was like that for most of them, actually.

For some it was just the gift Taylor had, her incredible potential that drove them to want to be close to her. But for most, or at least those that had been around longer, there was just something so... wholesome, about Taylor, that they couldn’t stop themselves from wanting to help her.

“We’re going after the Thinker girl?” Isabelle asked.

“Yes,” Taylor said simply. “It sounds as though she got herself into quite a bit of trouble. I hope we brought enough firepower to get her out of it.”

“We have Jake and Timothy in the back,” Isabelle said. She slowed to a stop at the next yellow light. Taylor had a thing about being safe while driving. “And we have two of your brutes.”

“They’re not going to do much against some of the tougher villains. Or a large enough group of thugs,” Taylor pointed out.

“That’s fine. As long as we can get you out of there. Are we going in hot?” Isabelle eyed the map for a moment. They weren’t too far from the place where Taylor thought the girl was.

Taylor shook her head. “No. Let’s go in quiet first.”

“I’ll have Timothy scout the place out then. He’s in civilian garb.”

She knew without looking that Taylor was going to disagree. “Let’s move in as a group. Post the boys as overwatch near the van. Is Jake still up to date on his medical training?”

“He is,” she said. And he was. Most of the men that worked close to Taylor were her rescues, the sort that, while mercenary in nature, had come to owe her more than just their lives. She reached out behind her and thumped a fist twice against the divider. “You two hear that back there?” she called.

“Yes ma’am!” came the quick reply.

Soon enough they were past the busier parts of the Boardwalk and into what was well-known Empire territory. The streets were cleaner here, but it was all a mask. The E88 prided itself on its obscure symbolism. Stores with runes in their signage, celtic crosses etched into stop signs, eagles painted onto otherwise benign murals.

They slowed down as they crossed a group of men in brown shirts milling around an unmarked van. “Damn,” the girl whispered.

“Are we too late?” Isabelle asked. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Maybe. Next street, take a right. First alley on my side,” was the only reply she received.

Isabelle followed the instructions and flicked on her turn signal to block off the mouth of an otherwise unremarkable alleyway. She shoved the van in park but left it running before jumping out of the van. The side door opened at the same time and three men jumped out.

Jake had a duffel bag in one hand and the other hovered over his chest, a heartbeat away from reaching into his bulky jacket. The other two stood unnaturally tall, their faces hidden by wide sunglasses and their pale skin looking chalky in the afternoon sun. They walked to either side of the alley and stood with their backs to the darkened passage.

Isabelle felt for the comforting presence of her Colt 1911 near her lower back and gave Jake a sideways nod.

The pair of them walked into the alley.

Taylor was already there, on one knee over a darkened form crumpled up against a far wall. Isabelle’s first thought was that Taylor was going to ruin another pair of pants. Then she berated herself for the indiscretion. “Dead?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Taylor said before pulling her hand away from the Thinker’s neck. “Gunshot to the chest. Through the stomach. Ruptured both kidneys too. Must have been a decently high calibre. I’d say she lost consciousness a few minutes after that. Bruising on the knuckles of both hands and a few scrapes on her hands. Another bullet through the back... almost didn’t notice it. The exit wound is near the hole left by the first round. She fought someone.”

“She died of the gunshot?” Isabelle asked. Her eyes moved away from the dead Thinker to the other end of the alley. Jake was already covering it, handgun out and pointing towards the ground.

“No. She was beaten. Impacts both pre and post mortem to the head, upper spine, sternum, face... it’s not pretty. Coupled with the blood loss and the shock.” Taylor licked her lips and stood up slowly. They had both seen worse. There were few things that Isabelle had seen over the years that would shock Taylor. A dead body was very low on that list.

Isabelle pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and handed it to a grateful Taylor. “I’ll get the boys to move her into the van.”

“Thank you,” Taylor said. “This might be for the best. No one will suspect that Sarah Livsey is alive with this much blood left on the scene.”

***

Mucho thanks to eschwartz and ChaoticSky for making the story easier on the eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

Taylor Calvert: Chapter Five

Lisa woke up with a gasp. Her hands went to her chest, searching for the hole that had spelled her doom. Instead she found unblemished skin covered by a silken pyjama and thick, warm blankets.

Blinking, Lisa stared around her. The room was unfamiliar. Small, but well decorated, and what furniture was there was tastefully modern. It looked like a small hotel room, or maybe a guest bedroom in an upscale apartment.

Not where she would have expected to wake up. There was no beeping of heart monitors or the stinging pain of IVs shoved into her arms. Lisa wiggled her toes, then her fingers. She was, as far as she and her power could tell, perfectly healthy.

That... wasn’t possible.

Pushing the warm blankets aside, she lifted the pyjama top to reveal a stomach made flat by too many days on the road with too little to eat. No scar or blemishes around the entry wound. That narrowed down the possibilities.

New Wave’s Panacea might have healed her that well. It was certainly within the girl’s power. But New Wave were all about accountability and the like. They would have arrested her or at least kept a better watch on her.

And it was probably not the Empire. They wouldn’t look kindly on someone that killed one of theirs. If Othala had healed her then she would wake up tied to a chair, not wearing silk pyjamas.

She tried to remember what happened. There was the alley, the scuffle with the man who let go of his gun when it barked. The pull of the trigger, then the hot agony of something tearing into her back...

Lisa stumbled out of the bed, feet wobbly as she ran towards one of the two doors in her room. This one had been left ajar. Her shoulder knocked the door aside, revealing a little bathroom with a shower behind a curtain and a small vanity. She fell on her knees and emptied her stomach into the toilette.

“Ah, you’re awake,” a familiar voice said from behind her. Lisa should have cared, would have, but she was busy reliving the past. She could remember the fight, the sudden elation at being the one with the gun, the sharp kick as she pulled the trigger.

Gentle hands moved over her neck, then pulled blonde locks away from her face and held them back as Lisa belched again.

“Calm now, calm,” the voice said. “You’re safe. No one will hurt you here.”

Lisa pulled away and the hands holding her hair let go. She blinked a few times and stared at the cloth being held next to her shoulder. She swiped it and rubbed at her face. “Where?” she asked, her voice rough and scratchy.

“One of my safehouses. An apartment near the Boardwalk,” the voice said.

Lisa tilted her head back and found herself staring up into the brown eyes of one Taylor Calvert. The younger girl smiled and patted Lisa on the back. “You brought me here?”

“We did. I got your call yesterday. I let you sleep through the night. I hope you don’t mind?”

“I... I was hurt,” Lisa said as she pressed a hand against her chest. It was like a phantom pain, without the pain. She couldn’t decide how to describe it, and her mind still felt scrambled. But she knew how badly off she was just the day before. “Did I, did I die?” she asked in a little voice.

Taylor glanced away, her eyes turning down as she thought. “You did,” she finally said.

Lisa had to bend over the toilette again.

“Hey, hey, you’re all better now,” Taylor said while rubbing circles over Lisa’s back.

Lisa spat into the bowl. “Your power?”

“Yes,” Taylor said. “That’s part of it.”

Lisa nodded. It wasn’t so far out of the ordinary. The Empire had a cape who could come back from the dead every five seconds. It wasn’t impossible, with powers. “How does it work?” she asked.

“We’ll have time for that later,” Taylor said instead of answering. She didn’t want to go into the details. She didn’t trust Lisa yet, not with something so important.

“Okay,” Lisa said.

She was helped to her feet. The world swayed around her, but a hand on the sink kept her upright. “Are you well enough to get changed on your own?” Taylor asked.

“My clothes?”

“Trashed.” Taylor shook her head. “They were quite dirty. I had Isabelle check your sizes first and buy a few things that should fit you. It’s all in the wardrobe. I’m sorry if it doesn’t suit your particular sense of fashion. Isabelle has very utilitarian tastes.”

“It’s fine, thank you.”

Taylor backed away slowly. She was still paying Lisa a lot of attention, watching to see if Lisa would act spooked, or try to run away. But Lisa wasn’t, so Taylor left the room by the other door she’d noticed.

Lisa stood for a moment, now in stained silken pyjamas in an unknown house. The only window in the room gave her a nice view of the Bay, but unless she pressed herself to it she doubted she would learn much about her surroundings.

There wasn’t much she could do.

Taking her courage in hand, she undressed and searched the wardrobe. Taylor hadn’t lied. Most of the clothes were t-shirts in drab colours and cargo pants. Simple, utilitarian, and loose enough that the fit didn’t matter that much. Running a hand through the material of one of the shirts was enough to hint at its quality.

She changed, taking her time because she didn’t want to know what waited for her on the other side of that door. Was Taylor and, more importantly, her little organization, going to ask her to pay back the favour? How much was a resurrection worth? She couldn’t put a price on the kind of healing she received, let alone the ability to bring someone back from the dead.

If Taylor went public with that power...

Lisa turned her mind to other things. Things like getting out of there, of escaping. Or maybe not escaping. It was an option. She didn’t doubt that Taylor, or whoever she worked for, would accept Lisa if she asked for work. They wanted parahumans, that much was certain, and a Thinker was always useful.

She made her way to the bathroom and splashed water over her face. Her image in the mirror was wide-eyed and flushed but otherwise as healthy as she had ever been. She gripped the edges of the sink and took a few deep breaths until her heart stopped beating so erratically.

It was a much calmer, and far more composed, Lisa that stepped out into the hallway outside her room. Taylor was waiting for her, leaning against a nearby wall while staring at a tablet computer. The girl looked up and took Lisa’s appearance in for a moment. “You look better,” she said.

“Thanks,” Lisa said. “How much do I owe you?”

Taylor perked an eyebrow at that. “Rather blunt, aren’t you?”

“I’d like to think that I’m being straightforward. You saved my life. Or gave it back. Semantics. The point is, people don’t do that sort of thing without expecting a pay-out.” Lisa paid attention to Taylor’s expression after saying her piece. The girl was good at hiding her emotions, but Lisa picked up little cues. She was amused, but also taken aback by Lisa’s bluntness. She gave Taylor the time she needed to decide if she was going to be honest or not.

It was what Lisa needed to know to decide if she was going to stick around or start plotting her escape.

“Very well,” Taylor said. She pressed on the tablet’s screen a few times, then extended it to Lisa.

She picked it up. A map of Brockton Bay was displayed, little marks in different colours dotted across the city. “Locations that belong to different gangs?” Lisa guessed.

“Easy ones. Mostly stockhouses and distribution points for drugs, weapons and money. The kind of target you’d expect a low-tier independent to hit,” Taylor confirmed.

“And you want to hit these?” Lisa asked. It was nonsense. She was a Thinker, not a Brute.

Taylor made a so-so gesture. “Not quite. We, our organization, can’t be seen hitting those targets without suffering from a rather nasty backlash from the gangs. But a small group of independants? Hit and runs that leave with only a few thousand every night and from different gangs? Those are the kinds of losses that most gangs can write off as risks of the trade.”

“You already have the independents to do this, don’t you?” Lisa asked.

“It’s quite enjoyable working with a Thinker. It must be a nightmare when you are the one with all the information and I’m left in the dark.” Taylor gave her a small, knowing smile. “Yes, we want to put a little bit of stress on the gangs, but not enough that they’ll break out into full out fighting.”

“And then what?”

“And then we move on the next phase of our plan,” Taylor said.

“Which is?” Lisa pressed.

Taylor’s knowing smile turned wry. “Not a part that you will participate in.”

Lisa huffed but couldn’t muster up the willpower to be angry with Taylor just yet. She looked back down at the map and at the distribution of the targets. Each had a little date next to it, none older than a week. Whomever they were, Taylor’s organization had a good information network, or a damned good Thinker on their side. “So, if I help you... what, coordinate, then I can pay you off?”

“Not quite. I would rather see you working as part of the team hitting those same targets. We have a few prospective members already. All of them waiting in this building, in fact. I’d like you to meet them.”

Lisa took in a deep breath again. Her head wasn’t pounding, not yet. In fact, she was feeling rather refreshed after that long sleep. Still, if she kept pushing her power the way she had been, it was going to start hurting soon. “Yeah, okay.”

Taylor’s smile was radiant, and what was more, it was genuine. “Brilliant. Come along then. The team is still quite small, so it shouldn’t be hard to fit in.”

***

Emily was a little anxious.

She was used to a certain level of comfort, but the apartment Taylor had brought her to was... a bit beyond that. It wasn’t luxurious, exactly, but it was big, and everything was new. She’d never been in a house where every appliance looked completely unused.

The fact that she had to share with two others didn’t bother her as much as she thought it might. Alec was mostly quiet. Sure, he left a mess in the kitchen and didn’t pick up after himself, but for the most part he seemed fine lounging on the big couch in the living room and playing video games.

The other boy, Brian, didn’t live in the apartment, but he had been coming around every other day or so to talk to Taylor and had been nothing but polite. Some part of her hind brain also liked to remind her that he was kinda cute, in a rugged working man sort of way.

It was sketchy. That was her problem.

The money to have a place like this just for two strangers to crash at, the way Taylor had found her, the waiting while nothing happened over the last couple of days. It was all getting to her.

She walked over to the fridge and popped the door open. After staring at the milk and eggs and snacks for a whole minute she pushed the door shut and walked back to the living room. The restlessness was really, really getting to her.

Worse, was the way people would just show up at odd hours. That morning that Isabelle woman and two others had walked in with a few boxes and stayed in one of the spare rooms for a few hours.

Emily had explored already. She knew that that room had been completely empty. Now the door was locked.

More things to worry about.

“A-are you guys hungry?” she asked and wanted to wince at the way her voice shook.

Brian and Alec were on the couches, the older boy watching Alec mow through zombies on the television while they talked about games and sports and other boy things.

“No thank you, Emily,” Brian’s baritone said.

“Could use another Pepsi,” Alec said.

“Okay!” She walked back to the kitchen and fetched a can of the drink. When she returned there were two more people in the living room.

Taylor she recognized immediately. The girl had a presence to her, the kind of thing that some of the student council members or the older more respected professors had. She had never really met any big name politicians or heroes, but Emily imagined that they shared Taylor’s ability to always be the centre of attention even while just standing still.

She focused on the new girl. She was a bit shorter than Taylor, about her own height, actually, with pretty blonde hair that looked as though it could use a bit of brushing and conditioning. The girl had bright green eyes that looked... haunted.

“Hello Emily, Brian, Alec,” Taylor said. “I found the last member of the Errant.” With a graceful step back, Taylor swept her arms out like a game show presenter and waved at the young woman behind her. “This is Lisa. She’s going to be the group’s Thinker.”

Lisa waved at them, eyes darting from one member to the next. There was that familiar pang in Emily’s heart, the one that made her always need to reach out to those that looked lost and hurt to help them. She stepped forwards, trying on a smile for the girl. “Hi Lisa, I’m Emily!”

“Hello,” Lisa said. She stared at Taylor, as if waiting for instructions. “Um, it’s a pleasure to meet you all?”

Emily could have pointed at the very second Alec lost interest because he turned back to his game and resumed murdering zombies.

There was an awkward pause, something Emily was unfortunately quite familiar with, as everyone other than Alec waited for the others to act.

“Very well,” Taylor said. “I suppose explanations are in order. Could everyone follow me? I have a few things to show you.”

It wasn’t a question, and something in the tone must have alerted Alec because he paused his game again and stood up. “Sure thing, bosslady. What’re we gonna do now? Not that I’m not fond of the sitting around and doing nothing.”

Taylor’s smile was amused but just a little exasperated. “Since you now have three active members, I believe it’s time for you to begin testing the waters. And to help with that, we have some equipment I would like to introduce you to.” Her eyes lingered on Emily for a moment. “Emily, you may come too, if you wish. I know you didn’t want to join in full, but I see little harm in you seeing this.”

“So soon?” Lisa said.

Emily could kind of sympathise. She didn’t want to participate in... whatever Taylor had plotted.

“Hardly. We have been planning this for some time. Come,” Taylor said before spinning on one heel and making her way down the corridor that bisected the apartment. Everyone followed. Lisa stayed close to Taylor, but Brian wasn’t far behind. Alec ended up sipping his drink while sauntering next to Emily.

Taylor paused before the door that had been locked just that afternoon. She swiped a card by an otherwise plain part of the wall and the door clicked open.

Stepping in after the rest, Emily felt her eyes go wide as she took in the room, or rather its contents.

It was still the same furniture-less space, but now three mannequins stood in a line against the far wall. Suits of armour, each one different in size and shape, waited. Her eyes skipped over the first two. The black one was meant for Brian and the green suit with the golden trim had to be Alec’s.

No, it was the last suit to the right that immediately grabbed Emily’s attention. Just a bit taller than her and coloured a deep purple, the suit looked like something out of a comic book, with plates over a black bodysuit.

She knew next to nothing about armour or anything like that, but the suit standing in front of her screamed ‘cool’ in a way few things had in her life. She didn’t want to be a part of the group, not really. It was dangerous and risky and she would have been better served minding her own business outside of the spotlight.

Still, the suit in front of her screamed into her hindbrain, telling her that she could wear it and be cool too.

She saw Lisa walk up to it and run a hand over the breastplate. She was... envious? It was silly. Her eyes drifted to the plaque on the ground next to the mannequin. Secret Keeper. 

“I would like to welcome you all formally into the Order of the Knights Errant.”

***

Whelp, that ends the prologue chapters.

The next chapters should start off the action-y parts of this fic. Misunderstandings and all those other fun things!

For those of you on Patreon, I sent out emails for everyone that pledged $5 with a link that gives you access to the Raven’s Nest Discord. I don’t think I need to warn you that spoilers are kind of a thing on there.

Mucho thanks to eschwartz and ChaoticSky for making the story easier on the eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Taylor Calvert: Chapter Six

Day One of Operation Errant Knight

Brian, no, Black Knight, sat with a stiff back as he watched Taylor pacing in the middle of the room. Behind the girl, one wall of the loft was taken over by a wide-screen TV that was displaying a map of Brockton Bay instead of Alec’s video games.

They had moved into the Loft just the day before. It was a little strange to find themselves all sharing a building again, and one farther from the centre of town. Stranger still was how Emily had followed. For all that she said that she didn’t want anything to do with cape games, she was still hanging around the rest of the team.

He and Alec took turns escorting her to and from her college in the mornings and back in the afternoons. It was a bit of a pain, but Taylor had insisted. Emily seemed to think that they were going the extra mile for her too, so she tended to cook for them every evening.

For all that Alec grumbled, he ate just as much as anyone else.

“I’m here!” Lisa said as she ran into the living room.

The girl had changed over the last week. She’d gone from a nervous wreck to an overconfident know-it-all. Brian had yet to decide if it was an improvement.

“Next time, do try to be prepared before a meeting begins,” Taylor admonished. Her pacing stopped to the left of the screen, allowing Brian and Emily who were on the couch and Alec who had taken over a La-Z-Boy a clear view. Isabelle, who was leaning against the far wall, was an easily forgotten presence in the back of Brian’s mind. “This meeting is something of a formality. I will not be present during most of these. Instead Lisa will be directing you as the group’s Thinker. On the other hand I will be available if you have any questions.”

“Got it,” Brian said.

“Yeah yeah,” Alec replied.

Taylor nodded once. “Very well.” With a click of a remote that she fetched out of her pocket, the girl had the screen zooming into a satellite image of a few buildings. One of them was then circled in red. “This is your target. It’s a distribution centre for the Merchants where, every morning, the sellers drop off their cash to be counted. The location of this operation changes perhaps twice a year, though Merchant operational security being what it is--”

She was interrupted when both Alec and Lisa snorted.

“Indeed. This man--” she flicked the remote and the image changed to a scruffy caucasian man in his forties, “is the one in charge of that particular station. He has the combination of a safe in which all revenue are stored every night. The goal is to break into it before the money is transferred but after most of the nightly deposits have been made. We expect between two and five Merchants on site. Questions?”

Lisa lowered her arm. “Do we have a way to break into the safe?”

“You are the way to break into the safe,” Taylor said. “If you can’t, Isabelle will provide you with a remote detonated charge. It should destroy the safe and its contents. Of course, you will keep any money retrieved, so destroying the safe should be your last resort. We just want any documentation or illicit content.”

Brian nodded along. That would give them all an incentive to get that safe open. “Anything else we should be aware of? Capes? Guns?”

“We don’t expect anything bigger than a handgun. Your armour should be proof against smaller calibres. Expect melee weapons. As for capes, Skidmark and Squealer are due to appear at a rally across the docks tonight. Mush is guarding an incoming delivery. Unless the Merchants have new parahuman members you should be fine.”

He nodded once. It sounded like a simple smash and grab. In all honesty, with the gear they had been provided he was expecting much worse. But then, maybe they were testing the waters.

“What do we do if we run into the white hats?” Alec asked.

“Run,” Taylor said. “Otherwise, fight to disengage. Isabelle knows the protocols and locations of a few safe places. Seeing as none of you will be recognizable and you don’t have any marks against your records we doubt most heroes will cause trouble.”

She waited for a moment, attention going from Lisa to Brian to Alec and finally to Emily. “If you have no further questions... the operation begins at one in the morning. Isabelle will be your driver.” Taylor folded her hands behind her back. “Good luck, knights.”

***

Day Four of Operation Errant Knight

Isabelle brought the van to a stop at the mouth of the alley, eyes scanning the roads ahead then the mirrors to see if anyone noticed her sudden stop. Other than a few far-away cars and a single pedestrian heading the other way, there was no one to see as the side door opened and three teenagers in high-tech armour jumped into the vehicle.

“Go,” Black Knight ordered.

He wasn’t in her chain of command, but she wasn’t about to disregard common sense. She shifted back into gear and pulled away from the sidewalk. By the next intersection she was speeding along at just under the maximum while the back of the van was filled with relieved laughter.

Even Alec, whose psychiatric profile pegged him as a potential sociopath, was grinning from ear to ear when he pulled his helmet off. “How much?” was his first question.

The purple armoured cape by his side, Lisa, shook a duffel bag a few times. “At least twelve, maybe fifteen grand.”

“Biggest hit yet,” Brian said, his voice still muffled by a mask and his fog.

“Damn, that’s five each,” Alec said. “I’ll put the pay into Pay-to-Win tonight.”

Isabell saw Lisa shaking her head in the rearview mirror. “You’ll have to wait for the boss to take her cut.”

“Aww, couldn’t we skip that part?” Alec asked.

Isabelle tensed. That would be a betrayal of their agreement, and worse, a betrayal of Taylor’s trust.

“Moron,” Brian growled. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. We’ll pay our dues. It’s not much more than what the equipment and housing and food would cost you anyway.”

Alec’s pout was audible. “You guys aren’t any fun.”

Isabelle sighed. It was hard to remember, sometimes, that they were still just kids.

***

Day Seven of Operation Errant Knight

She had asked Taylor what her favourite meal was, and she only got a ‘I’ll eat anything’ sort of response. It took a few pointed looks towards Isabelle to discover that Taylor had a thing for lasagna.

Emily bent down in front of the oven, face warming as she peeked through the glass to see how the food was coming along. The cheese she’d shredded on the top was just starting to brown near the edges. Another few minutes, she decided.

There was some noise from the other end of the Loft. When she looked down the corridor that divided their space it was to find Lisa and Brian taking off their armour while Alec lay down on the floor spread-eagle.

They were bantering, Lisa and Brian sending quick barbs at each other that might have been insults if it wasn’t for the wide grins they wore. Alec, in the meantime, opened up a sack and started dumping piles of money over his head until Lisa screeched at him to stop making a mess.

“Welcome home,” Emily said as she walked over to the group. She wiped her hands on her apron and gave them all her most cheerful smile.

“Emily!” Lisa cheered. “What’re you making? It smells wonderful.” Lisa’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “Ohh, lasagna, huh? Cool. And you put cheese on it! Perfect.”

Emily shook her head. The unfairness of powers sometimes baffled her. “How did you know?”

“The smell, Isabelle mentioned lasagna the other day, and you have a bit of cheese on your shoes,” Lisa said with her insufferably smug grin. “Did you make enough for all of us or it is just for Taylor?”

“It’s for everyone,” Emily confirmed.

Alec finally got to his feet, armour clicking against the floor as he pushed himself up. “Is it ready?”

Emily shook her head. “Not quite yet,” she said. It was hard to point a finger at when it happened, but sometime over the past week or so she had become friends with the rambunctious Knights.

At first it was just her trying to thank them for all the effort they went through to keep her safe to and from school, but then it was more than that. Lisa was a little bit argumentative but she had a great sense of fashion and could gossip like the best of them. Brian was down to earth and calm, the kind of cool guy she would have crushed on were she still a high schooler. And Alec... well, Alec was an asshole, but he wasn’t a mean one.

“You guys clean up, I’ll set the table,” she said.

It was awkward being around the others when they were in costume. It felt as if they were different people, that they were larger than life until they took off the masks and just became themselves again.

Worse were the rumours she heard in class about the people she was living with. It was strange to think that she was about to serve dinner to people whose blurry pictures were starting to appear on PHO and on the news.

Emily pulled the lasagna out of the oven, set it aside, and started preparing the table. In no time at all she had four places set and was dishing out food for the whole gang. The leftovers she would set aside for the next time Taylor came over.

A few minutes later everyone was sitting around the dining room table, Lisa and Brian decompressing while Alec stared at her like a starving dog. “How was your, uh, heist?” Emily asked as she placed a plate in front of both Lisa and Brian.

Alec gave her a ‘are you shitting me’ look as she smiled at him and went to fetch her own meal and his.

“It went alright,” Brian said. “We hit an Empire dog fighting ring. Place was closed down today. Lots of dogs and a few guards. Didn’t make as much as we thought we would.”

Lisa snorted. “I told you, if was fifty-fifty if they’d leave the bulk of the money there or not. Hookwolf doesn’t trust his own bookies. He wouldn’t let the cash just sit there for anyone to grab. Case in point, we grabbed what was there.”

“Still made a bit,” Alec pointed out.

Emily shook her head as she came around the table and dropped Alec’s plate in front of him. The shine in the boy’s eyes as he took the meal in had her grinning from ear to ear. She was about to move on when her attention caught on something on Alec’s back.

The idiot had yet to remove his armour, probably because he was too lazy to take it off before sitting down at the dinner table. On his back, just to the right of his spine, was a deep crack in the plate that covered his shoulder blade.

“What’s this?” she asked while running a finger over the hole.

“Hrm?” he asked with a faceful of pasta. “Oh, ‘s a hole.”

“What?”

Lisa snorted. “The dumbass got himself shot. We told him to search the guards for weapons and he just stole their phones and took selfies instead. He’s lucky Taylor shelled out for good gear or he wouldn’t be around to annoy us anymore.”

“Shut up,” Alec said with no heat whatsoever. “My back still hurts. I’m a walking wounded. Wounded I tell you. Now where’s my danger pay?”

Emily moved away from him but her eyes lingered on the cracks surrounding the hole in his armour.

Her meal tasted like dust.

***

Day Eleven of Operation Errant Knight

Thomas let the printed page fall onto his desk. “Nearly forty thousand in a little over a week. That’s... five successful operations so far. If this continues by this time next year your Errant project will have paid for itself.”

Taylor shook her head. She had seen the flaw in what he said. “I’m allowing them to keep most of the liquid assets they capture. If we’re to make a profit off of the venture then we’ll need to target assets that the Knights won’t want to keep themselves. Information, drugs, weapons, people.”

Thomas allowed one eyebrow to rise. “You want to use them for wet work?”

“No. I want them to have a clean record. If we need them to turn villain later on, then we can do so, but it’s the kind of action that can’t easily be reversed. Once public perception turns against them it will take a lot of work to rebuild it. Best to keep them looking like vigilantes for as long as possible. And anyway, we have others to rely on for wet work.”

“Hrm,” was his only reply. He folded his hands together and closed his eyes as he thought. “How capable are they?”

“Average, for a team that’s new. Given better equipment they might pose a small threat. Lisa is the most dangerous member if they were to turn against us.” She shifted to one side a little. “As for their capabilities in their current role, again average. I think Jean-Paul could use some of my brutes with his power. It would be a force multiplier. But as they are right now, they suit their role very well but don’t have the powers to be a major threat.”

“Very well. I want you to help them plan a hit against this target.” Without looking, he reached into a drawer and pulled the only sheet in it onto the table before sliding it forwards.

Taylor grabbed it and read over the information. “This will anger Lung.”

“I want him angry.”

“It can be done,” she said. “Timeframe?”

“Two weeks. You’ll note that I want to make it look like they were hired out to do the job.”

Taylor thought about it for a few long moments, her eyes staring into the middle distance. “We can pin it on the Empire. I’ll have them hit the Merchants a few more times. Can we drop rumours that the hit on the Empire didn’t actually amount to anything?”

“Ah, make it look like a double bluff,” Thomas said. “Yes. I have some assets in the Empire that can leak rumours that the Errant are actually friends of their cause.”

***

Day Fifteen of Operation Errant Knight

“I see. I’ll inform White Queen. Call me if the situation deteriorates.”

Isabelle hung up and slid her phone into one of the pockets pressed up against her thigh. The news was dire, but not terribly unexpected. The lifespan of the average parahuman was counted in months, especially those that were as active as the Errant had been over the past few weeks.

“What’s wrong?” Taylor asked with the sort of distracted tone that said that she was only paying half attention to the goings-on around her. The girl was leaning back into a sofa, legs over on arm in a display of carelessness that was uncharacteristic for her. She didn’t let herself relax as often as a fifteen year old should.

“The Errant just came back from that hit against the Merchants,” Isabelle said. “No problems on that front, but they encountered a hero on the way back. Member of the Wards called Shadow Stalker. They followed protocol and tried to run.”

“And they failed?” She looked up from her book, a thick fantasy novel whose pages were still crisp and new.

“No. Black Knight was injured. Crossbow bolt in the lower back. It stabbed through one of the ceramic plates.”

Taylor blinked once. “A crossbow bolt went through armour rated for light rifle rounds?”

“Shadow Stalker might have used her power to change the properties of the bolt,” Isabelle suggested.

Taylor dogeared the page she was on and stood. “I need to see dad,” she said before walking past Isabelle. She gave her the book in passing. “Keep that for me, would you? It’s an alright read.”

Isabelle shrugged and looked down at the title of the novel. Catharsis. She set the book aside and went off in search of coffee. She had the impression that it was going to be one of those weeks.

***

It wasn’t right.

Emily rushed back to Brian’s side, ignoring the blood that stained the couch and the way Lisa was pacing back and forth next to them. She had a bucket full of warm water, a few clean washcloths and their first aid kit.

Brian groaned, eyes shut as he breathed in with short, huffing gasps. “It’s okay, it’ll be alright,” Emily said. Though she didn’t know if she was talking to Brian or herself.

She started dabbing at the wound, her attention grabbed by the gaping hole punched into Brian’s back.

This, this was why she didn’t want to play hero. It was too dangerous, too risky. “Who, who did this?” she asked.

“Shadow Stalker,” Lisa said.

“The Ward?” Emily paused her cleaning for just a moment then continued when Brian moaned.

“Yeah. She was a violent vigilante before. Probably still on probation,” Lisa said.

“But we’re not... you guys aren’t bad guys,” Emily said.

Alec just snorted. He was the calmest of the lot of them. Heck, he was the one that pulled the arrow out from Brian’s back. If anything, he seemed more upset that his couch was stained.

Emily shook her head. That was crazy. They shouldn’t have been attacked by a so-called hero. It was just... unfair. Brian panted a little, but he still managed to place a hand on Emily’s knee. “It’s... just a scratch. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s okay, it’ll be alright,” Emily said. Closing her eyes for a minute, Emily recentred herself, then got back to work.

***

Thomas pressed a dry towel to his face. Having a gym and full bathroom right next to his office was something of a luxury but it was paying dividends. His costume tended to stick if he didn’t dry off properly though.

There was a knock at the door to his office and he paused mid-motion. “Yes?” he asked.

“It’s me,” came Taylor’s voice.

“One moment.” Thomas pulled on his mask and settled it in place. He would have preferred the snake costume he had ordered long ago, but it was, as Taylor pointed out incessantly, impractical. “Come in.”

The door swung open and Taylor, sans costume, stepped into his office. “Hello, dad.”

“Hello, pet. What do you need?”

Her smile was all teeth. “I need everything you know about Shadow Stalker.”

***

Most chapters won’t have so many time skips. I just wanted to get to the juicer parts of the story, and seeing Thomas or Taylor working on spreadsheets isn’t fun, so we moved ahead a bit.

Mucho thanks to eschwartz and ChaoticSky for making the story easier on the eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

Taylor Calvert: Chapter Seven

Class ended in five minutes and all Emma could think about was that an hour wasn’t nearly long enough for lunch.

Gladly was going on and on about capes as if he knew anything about the subject. The moron droned on for a bit, then glanced at the clock above the door. When he looked back towards the class Emma gave him one her her best smiles, remembering at the last moment to smile with her eyes too. It was one of those tips she’d learned while doing modelling work.

“Alright class, you’re dismissed,” Gladly said. The whole class waited a beat then cheered. Emma’s smile to the teacher grew and she clapped her hands while squeezing her elbows in close to the sides of her chest. “D-don’t forget, a page on the impact of parahumans on your life by next Monday!” he called to the retreating class

The moment she was out of the class her smile dropped. “Ugh,” she said.

Sophia stood just to her right while the other girls in the class, at least those worth noticing, followed a few steps behind. “That was awful,” Sophia said.

“Yeah. He just drags on and on,” Emma agreed. “It’s like he’s getting worse every day. Did you see the way he was staring at my tits? The creep.” She was leading the pack towards their year’s row of lockers when her eyes alighted on a little bird. The smile returned, this time with just a bit more teeth. “Hey, Samantha!”

The girl jumped, almost dropping her books as she spun around. It was almost cute, the wide-eyed look she gave Emma and her friends as they circled around her. “Emma,” Sam said while taking a half step back.

She was the sort of coward that would take just about anything, but Emma had been working on her, slowly poking and prodding to see what was underneath Sam’s skin. She was so close she could almost taste it. There were already tears gathering in the corner of Sam’s eyes and they’d yet to even start.

She was just about to lay into the girl when someone walked over to their group, one of the boys from the track team. “Hey, Sophie, some chick’s asking for you,” he said before giving them all what he must have thought was a winning smile.

“It’s Sophia, moron,” her best friend said. The girls all giggled as the jock’s face reddened a little, but then his attention shifted to Samantha who had joined in the laughter. “Bitch, what are you laughing at?” he growled.

Emma had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Where’s this ‘chick’ at?” she asked.

“Oh, uh, Mrs. Knott’s room. She’s all alone like,” he said.

Emma nodded and looped her arm with Sophia’s. “Shall we?” she asked.

“Yeah, let’s see what this shit’s about. I bet it’s the bitch Caroline about track. Should have figured that she wouldn’t get out of my way.”

Emma waved goodbye to her girls and walked next to Sophia. At the rate they were going, and with all their stuff from Gladly’s class too, they were going to start lunch a little late. She wondered if she could get a pass to miss out on the first half of math that afternoon.

Mrs. Knott’s class was just past their lockers, so they paused to dump their stuff. “So, did you have fun last night?”

Sophia snorted. “Almost. Had the little brat with me but I ditched her within three blocks.”

Emma snorted. “Poor little girl. She can’t play in the big leagues yet, huh?”

“Nah. Tough though. Give her a few years, maybe teach her how not to be such a goody-two-shoes sort, and she might turn into something useful.”

Emma knew Sophia as she’d known few people before, and if Sophia said someone was a wimp, well then that person was a wimp. “Anything interesting happen?”

“Yeah. Ran into a bunch of villains in weird-ass costumes. Looked like... what do you call those heroes from Japan, the ones in the colourful getups?”

“The sentai?”

“Yeah, them. Looked like three of those. Costumes that looked the same, but different colours. Like knights, I guess.” Sophia shrugged. “Pretty sure I nailed one of them with a bolt, but he was throwing this.... black fog shit around that messed with my power. Hard to see through.” She made a wavy motion in the air as if to describe an expanding cloud.

Emma grinned at her friend. It made her feel safe, knowing that people like Sophia were out there keeping the city safe.

The door to Mrs. Knott’s room was left ajar, so Emma pushed it open with her shoulder and stepped in.

 

There was just one girl in the room, her back turned to them, both hands folded over the small of her back. Shoulder length hair with a bit of a curl to it shifted as the girl turned her head a little. Emma eyed the black jacket the girl was wearing. It stopped just at her hips, with squared shoulders and a pleat down the middle. She was wearing slacks that stopped over a pair of dress shoes. It was the kind of thing only the very tall and very thin could pull off, and then only if the suit was well tailored.

“You the one that wanted to see me?” Sophia asked.

“Sophia Hess,” the girl said. The name came in a toneless voice, like a bored secretary reading it off a list. She spun on her heel, turning to face Emma and Sophia. “Please, close the door.”

Emma had spent enough time working as a model to tell quality when she saw it. This girl was wearing a suit that had to rival something her dad bought and only used during important presentations in court. Her attention shifted to dark brown eyes that sparkled with intelligence and a sort of calculating gaze. There was just a touch of makeup, enough to make lips that would otherwise have looked too big appear seductive instead.

There was something about that face though. “Taylor?”

Eyes that had appeared intelligent twitched to Emma, then glazed over. Mrs. Knott’s class was silent for a few beats before Taylor blinked. “Emma?”

Emma grinned from ear to ear and almost skipped over to Taylor. She wrapped both arms around her old friend, ignoring the awkward poke of something hard in her chest as she pressed her close. “Oh my god, it’s been forever, Tay!”

Taylor returned the hug a little awkwardly, but Emma could let that go easily enough. She moved back a few steps, giving Taylor some room. “Indeed it has,” Taylor said. “I think I last saw you... well, it has been some time.”

Taylor looked... good. Not the dorky girl that she had been before her parents died. But Emma always knew that Taylor was strong. Maybe even stronger than her.

“So, you know this chick?” Sophia asked. She was eyeing Taylor up and down like a particularly interesting side of beef.

“Yes. This is Taylor Hebert. We were best friends a while ago. Her parents passed away and I haven’t really heard from her since,” Emma explained. “Where have you been?”

Taylor gave Emma a gentle smile. “I was adopted, actually. A businessman from Boston. I’m sorry I didn’t get to go to Winslow with you though. I’m sure we would still be friends if I had.”

“Of course,” Emma agreed easily. There was no doubt in her mind that Taylor would still be her friend. She was the kind of girl that was stronger than any of the chaff Emma had hanging around her. Sophia was probably going to love Taylor too.

“This is real nice,” Sophia said with a tone just this side of biting. “Couldn’t you wait until after class to have your little reunion?”

“Sophia, don’t be a jerk, Tay’s a friend,” Emma said.

“Actually, my purpose here was specifically to talk to you, Sophia,” Taylor said. She gave Emma a bit of a sad smile. “I hope you don’t mind? Emma, we can catch up afterwards?”

Emma felt a hollow pit opening in her gut at being dismissed so easily. “What did you want to talk to Sophia about?” she asked.

Taylor tilted her head to one side. The same motion she did as a kid, but somehow more sophisticated and graceful. “I’m afraid that’s between Sophia and I.”

Sophia snorted. “Don’t be like that. I trust Emma.”

One of Taylor’s eyebrows perked up and she turned towards Sophia. “Really? That’s nice. Do you trust her with everything? Even the things you do in the shadows?”

She said it with such an easy, joking tone that Emma almost didn’t catch the hint she had dropped. Sophia tensing next to her gave it away.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

The two of them stared at each other for a moment and Emma grew increasingly tense. Taylor slowly reached up and into her jacket. When the hand returned it was wrapped around a long silvery thing. She tossed it towards Sophia.

With a swipe, Sophia snatched the thing out of midair and then opened her hand. Emma stared at the broadhead crossbow bolt. “Do you recognize it?” Taylor asked. She was still wearing that little smile.

Sophia’s fingers clenched around the bolt. “What’s this about?” she growled.

Taylor’s smirk grew. “Let me tell you a story,” she began. The tone, the pacing in which she spoke, reminded Emma of little more than the villains in the horror movies she and Sophia had snuck out to watch. “There was once a very active vigilante. She was very effective. But, sometimes, she want a little too far. Then, one day, the good guys caught her. They gave her a choice. Serve them or go away. So she served. But she never forgot what it was like to be effective, to hunt, and it weighted on her that the good guys had more rules than sense.”

Sophia shifted from one foot to the other. “What are you on about?”

“I wasn’t done with my story, Miss Hess,” Taylor said in a chiding manner. “See, yesterday, that young would-be heroine made a mistake. She attacked people that she shouldn’t have.”

The room rang with silence after that last statement. Sophia’s knuckles cracked around the shaft of the bolt.

Emma remembered the knights Sophia had mentioned just minutes ago. Was Taylor one of them?

“Now, usually, there would be consequences, but I’m a very fair person. I know that mistakes happen. Maybe the lighting was bad, maybe you were confused. In the end, any injuries you might have given were... minor.”

Emma swallowed. The easy way Taylor was speaking of consequences was sending shivers down her spine.

“So, what, you going to threaten me?”

Taylor laughed. It was loud and cheerful and had tears coming to Emma’s eyes as vivid memories of summers spent playing in the grass and sun came rushing back. Taylor might have changed a lot, but her laugh was the same. “No, Sophia, I won’t threaten you. Not over something so petty. Now, had you killed one of mine instead of just injuring him, I would kill you. But that didn’t happen.”

Sophia shifted again. “What the fuck?”

Taylor’s smile grew a little wry. “Sorry, did that come out as a little menacing? It wasn’t on purpose, I assure you. No, I was hoping we could come to something of an agreement, you and I, seeing as you owe me one.”

“I don’t owe you jack shit,” Sophia bit out.

“Oh? Well, there are the medical bills to consider. Then there’s the footage of you attacking a group of parahumans who are, at worst, vigilantes, with deadly weaponry.” She eyed the bolt in Sophia’s hand then snapped her gaze back to Sophia’s face. “Of course, if I wanted to bury you, it would be as simple as releasing all the footage we have been suppressing of you taking your activities to... shall we say, the next level?”

Sophia took three quick steps forwards, her right hand coming up to ball into a fist around the collar of Taylor’s shirt. Taylor’s arms dropped limply to her sides. It was as if she didn’t even intend to fight. “The fuck do you think you are?” Sophia growled.

Taylor’s smile never wavered. “Sophia. This isn’t the kind of fight you can win with punches.” Emma saw her hand twitch and suddenly there was a black thing in her palm. It looked like a remote, all square and boxy, only it had two metallic prongs sticking out of the end.

“Taser!” Emma shrieked.

Sophia was fast. She was a track star, and she’d been in plenty of scuffles. So it surprised no one when she pushed Taylor back and slapped the hand with the taser away when Taylor jabbed it towards her chest.

Taylor laughed again when she regained her balance a few feet back from where she had been. “My, you are aggressive, Miss Hess.”

“You fucking bitch,” Sophia hissed.

“There’s no need for me to be anything of the sort, Miss Hess. You hurt one of mine and yet I’m still willing to extend a hand in friendship.” Taylor reached into her jacket with the same hand that had been holding the taser. The device had disappeared again at some point while Emma wasn’t paying attention.

Taylor pulled out an envelope from her jacket and tossed it onto a table next to Sophia. “Those are the locations of E88, Merchant, and ABB targets. Low to mid importance. Mostly the schedules of the more punctual of their sellers, pushers and pimps. You’ll notice that they are time sensitive targets. Most are out and about while you are on your patrols. We even sorted them based on which route you should be on.”

“How would you know what route I should be on?” Sophia asked. There was still that tone of anger in her every word, but now it was joined by caution.

Taylor’s voice was droll. “Come now, you should not be surprised your superiors are incompetent. You’ll find I'm far more capable.”

“So, that’s it?” Sophia asked. “I hurt one of your pansy ass knight looking assholes and you just... give me targets to hit?”

“No, of course that’s not it. I give you targets because you might actually do something about it. My goal is to get rid of the gangs. Your... methods are an actual deterrent. You, alone, have done more to stop crime in the Bay than the rest of the Wards team combined. The only other capes in the city as effective at striking fear are Glory Girl and my team.”

Emma... wasn’t sure what to think. Taylor had just insulted her best friend, had pushed her back, and then turned around and complimented her. It was like she wanted Sophia to be on the back foot.

“Look, Sophia, we both know that you won’t last forever in the Wards. One day the tedium is going to get to you and you’ll just want to burst out of there. You’ll always have another option... as long as you avoid shooting at my pansy ass knight looking assholes.”

“No.”

The one word had everyone pausing and Emma realized with something approaching dread that she had been the one to speak it. But she knew why she’s said it. She took a few steps forward until she was almost pressed up against Taylor. “You don’t get to waltz back in here and talk shit like that, Taylor. Didn’t your parents raise you better than that?”

Taylor twitched, but her smile didn’t falter even a little. “Emma, this was between me and Sophia. I don’t want to sour our relationship over something so... trivial.”

The way she spoke, the way she carried herself. It was Taylor, but so much stronger than Emma remembered. “The only thing that’s trivial here is you. Why are you even here?”

“In this room? Because the windows give a good vantage for my marksmen. In this school? Because it was trivially easy to bribe the teaching staff and have them turn the other way. Or do you mean in your life? I’m sorry if I’m ruining your day, Emma, but your friend hurt some of mine and I can’t allow her to do that again.”

Emma swallowed. Every word out of Taylor’s mouth rang true and it... it pissed her off. She did what she had been taught to do, what Sophia was pushing her to become. She swung an opened hand at Taylor’s face.

Taylor took an almost lazy step back. Emma’s hand swiped through the air.

“Emma,” both Sophia and Taylor said at the same time, though with entirely different tones.

Emma’s hands balled into fists. “Fuck, you’re so smug, aren’t you?” she asked Taylor, her voice turning saccharine-sweet. “I wonder if you were smiling the same way when your parents died. You know, it was your fault that they cra--”

"Emma," the word was enough to cut her off mid-speech, and she looked to find Taylor standing across from her, one hand on her shoulder. "One more word. And they will never find your body." 

The hand moved from her shoulder to her cheek as the other girl spoke, her voice low, almost intimate. Then she got a slightly too-hard pat on the cheek, and Taylor was walking past, her expression never changing. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again, Sophia,” she said. “Enjoy the information. And if you need anything, there’s a number in the envelope you can call.”

***  
Bonus Scene:

Sophia tugged on her shirt. “Is it just me, or is it hot in here?”

Emma screeched in outrage.

***

Mucho thanks to eschwartz and ChaoticSky for making the story easier on the eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

Taylor Calvert Chapter Eight

“How are you feeling, Brian?” Taylor asked. She was standing at the head of the room, looking to Emily like one of those heroes in a press conference as she stood next to a wide-screen television mounted to the wall.

“Better,” Brian said. He shifted his back and hips about as if to test them. “Bit of strain around the scar, but not enough to stop me from moving.”

“Do you think you’re ready to return to active duty? We have a time-sensitive operation planned for two days from now.” Taylor said.

The entire group turned towards Brian. “I should be good by then.”

Taylor smiled beatifically. “Brilliant.” She pressed a button on a remote and the screen changed to an image of the front of a bar. “This is the Ruby Dreams. It’s a small bar on the outskirts of the docks. It also hides an illegal gambling den currently owned and operated by the Asian Bad Boyz. It accounts for a small but sizable percentage of Lung’s total yearly earnings. We are going to hit it.”

Emily took in a deep breath. This was it, her chance that she had been looking for ever since Brian had come back hurt. “I-” she began. The others turned towards her and she almost stopped, but Taylor gave her an encouraging nod. “I want to help,” she said.

“You know, gambling and setting things on fire don’t usually mix,” Alec said.

“Alec,” Taylor said in a chiding tone. She turned back to Emily and looked her up and down. Emily knew that she didn’t look her best. She’d skipped a few days of school to keep an eye on Brian while he got better and the decision to join was weighing on her at night. “Are you sure?” Taylor asked.

“Yeah, I mean, yes, yes I am,” Emily said. It was as if a weight was being taken off her shoulders as she spoke those words.

Taylor grinned. “Then we would love to have you as a knight,” she said.

Emily felt a hand on her shoulder. Lisa was giving her one of her own grins. “It’s going to be fun not being the only girl out on missions.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alec asked.

“It means that no matter how girly you are, Alec, you’re just not pretty enough for me to talk about boys with.”

Alec slapped his hands over his chest and flopped back into his seat. “Hit! I’ve been hit! Bosslady, fuck Brian, I’m the one that’s injured here.”

Taylor sighed. Emily couldn’t stop a small giggle from escaping and she leaned closer to Lisa’s side until the younger girl wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll get over your... injury in time for the op, Alec,” Taylor said. “But maybe this will encourage you; seeing as this operation is more high-risk than usual, I will be doubling your gains for the operation from one thousand each to two. Also, any money you take will be matched dollar for dollar. If you return with ten grand, I’ll give you another ten on top of it.”

Lisa whistled. “Damn. That’s a lot of cash. Do we know how much the casino has for the taking?”

Taylor shook her head. “We don’t have hard figures. Our moles in the ABB don’t have enough reach for that. We do expect around two to three hundred thousand on the night of the hit.”

They were quiet for a moment as they digested the number. “Shit,” Brian whispered.

“Indeed. Of course, as I mentioned, this is a high-risk high-reward operation. That is why I will be accompanying you on overwatch. I will also be providing you all with new weapons to use in this operation and in any future mission. This op will paint a target on the Knights Errant.”

Everyone perked up, whether it was at the idea that Taylor would join them (Emily was really excited to see what Taylor could do, she was so damned mysterious) or the idea that they were going to get new things to play with. Alec in particular looked happy at the news, though it was hard to see it with his listless personality.

“So, are we getting Tinkertech guns and things?” he asked.

Taylor shook her head. “I’m afraid not. We would rather stick to the knight theme.”

He shrugged one shoulder languidly. “Can I have a sword?”

“Do you know how to use a sword?”

“Stick them with the pointy end?”

Taylor smiled wider. “No sword for you.”

***

The click-clack of Isabelle’s boots echoed down the main corridor of the facility.

It was incredible, she mused, what could be built when ‘unlimited’ was the only word in your budget. She passed stainless steel doors on either side of the corridor, each one with a large number stenciled on the front. There was a constant electric hum from somewhere behind the doors, a sure sign that the cooling systems were still very much functional.

She had been here before, of course. When it was first built, a much younger Taylor had instantly fallen in love with the austere grey corridors and spotless floor. It was a refuge from the training and lessons and the simple missions Calvert handed out to the girl nearly every day.

Here was a place where Taylor could play with her powers to her heart’s content, and even if Isabelle found it to be rather drab and dull and lifeless (the latter in more ways than one) it was still a place that she had grown to enjoy.

Her feet brought her to the very end of the corridor, to a vault door twice as wide as all but one of the others.

There was only one inscription on this one, a plaque welded onto the wall above the door. It was an old thing, made of brass and some dark wood. One of Taylor’s mercenaries had found it in a yard sale and Taylor had immediately adored it. ‘HC SVNT DRACONES.’

She took hold of the wheel in the centre of the vault door and, with a grunt of effort, spun in around. The wheel spun and the well-oiled mechanism shifted. With a clunk, the locks were undone and Isabelle was able to pull the door open.

A pair of deep brown eyes hovered at head height, the only things visible in the shadows of the vault.

“Hello Danny. Your daughter needs you.”

***

Short chapter. Next one should make up for it!

Mucho thanks to eschwartz and ChaoticSky for making the story easier on the eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Taylor Calvert: Chapter Nine

“How much have we got?”

Lisa tried not to roll her eyes at the less than perfect English. She knew that Alec spoke another language (French?) but it was no excuse for such poor grammar. “We’ve got,” she said in as biting a tone as she could manage with her helmet on, “about eighty grand. So far.”

Alec eyed the duffel bag on the casino floor, then the still half-full safe Lisa had been digging through. He let out a low whistle. “Nice.”

“Shouldn’t you be keeping watch?” she asked.

The heist had gone perfectly so far. Even with Emily -- Spitfire -- joining them for the first time. She was a nervous wreck, but the older girl knew that she was out of her element and so deferred to Lisa and Brian’s expertise. She also, wisely, chose to ignore any of Alec’s advice.

“These idiots wouldn’t dare do a thing, yeah?” Alec said. He poked at the clerk that had been behind the counter before they barged in. The man whimpered from his place on the floor.

His lack of effort was a pain in the ass, but he was still spot on. The gamblers and dealers of the Ruby Dreams were all huddled on the ground, hands behind their heads as they inspected the floor from up close. Some, the more daring ones, would peek up from time to time and stare at their captors.

Lisa joined them for a moment, looking at her teammates to make sure they were alright.

Brian stood in the middle of the room, swatches of darkness so black it felt as though they ate the neon lighting shifting around him, revealing only glimpses of the armoured form within. He was tense, but not afraid. At his feet lay a few of the guards that had tried to tangle with him. He was also, she noted, playing with the handle of the greatsword Taylor had given him. He obviously didn’t know how to use it, but the thing was big and intimidating enough that he only had to wiggle it in someone’s face for them to sit back and shut up.

Emily they had stationed near the back exit. Taylor had to have commissioned the armour before Emily agreed to join. There wasn’t enough time otherwise to have built the sleek red costume Spitfire was wearing. The almost insectile steel helm was twitching while Emily shifted from foot to foot.

Lisa could tell it was nerves, but to the patrons of Lung’s fine casino, it probably looked like the girl was a twitchy killer one wrong word away from attacking them.

And then there was Alec. Somehow he managed to make even his green and gold armoured suit look geeky and foppish. The scepter he was waving about like a toy and the plastic sword duct-taped to his back only added to the image. The latter he had purchased in some sort of vain attempt to protest his lack of ‘cool’ weaponry.

“Almost done,” Lisa said.

“Hurry,” Brian said. His voice was muffled by his darkness and the mask he wore. All of their masks had voice changers that made their voices deeper, but his was the worst. The people around him shifted away.

Lisa tucked the last stack of bills into a second duffel bag and zipped it up. She tossed the heavier bag to Alec who caught it with a laugh before hooking it over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Brian nodded. “Spitfire.”

Emily nodded. She brought a hand up to the neck of her Ferrari-red armour and took a deep breath. The front of her mask slid opened, splitting down the middle around her mouth like mandibles to reveal her mouth and the bottom of her nose.

Lisa was running with the lightest bag slung over one shoulder when Emily started spitting. Globs of liquid fire shot across the room, splashing onto the screens of slot machines and the rings on roulette tables.

A dozen fiery whumps followed as the room lit up in orange and red. “Alright, everyone out!” Brian roared.

They didn’t need to be told twice. The customers and guards of the Ruby Dreams stampeded out the front door, tripping over each other in a panicked rush to be the first out of the building. The fire alarm went off, adding a wailing scream to the chaos.

Lisa grinned. The rush of these heists was incredible. It was addictive and the money and reputation only added to it. It was, she knew, exactly what Taylor wanted them to feel.

It didn’t matter that the others didn’t notice Taylor manipulating them. They were rats being taught to press a button to get a nibble of cheese. Every mission they went on, every payout they received, was one more reason to do as Taylor asked. Lisa didn’t know whether to be pissed or to respect the girl. It was even working on her, despite her knowing she was being played.

Emily was giggling as she opened the back door and led them into the alley behind the casino. “That, that was,” she said.

“We know,” Lisa replied with mirth of her own. “C’mon, we need to get to the van and get out of here before the ABB pen us in.”

“Uh, too late?” Alec said.

Lisa felt a shiver run down her spin as she spun around and stared at the small group of men at the far end of the alley. There were maybe a half dozen in all, with pipes and phones and hard eyes that were taking in the group. They didn’t matter. What mattered was the man in front.

Tall, muscular, shirtless despite the weather taking a turn for the chillier. And on his face was a mask made to resemble the face of a Chinese dragon.

“Black!” she yelped.

Brian was quick on the uptake. With a quick gesture, a plume of darkness the width of a tree trunk shot out from his outstretched hand and rushed to block the exit of the alley.

Emily opened her mask again and took a deep breath before spitting a line of flames that bisected the path between them and Lung.

“Are we just going to wait here?” Alec asked.

“We’re taking route Beta,” Brian said. “Secret Keeper, call the boss.”

Lisa was already pulling a burner phone out and dialling the number with a few quick thumb presses. They were out of the alley and running past a milling crowd of gamblers and gawkers. A few police cars and a PRT van were already parked nearby and the sirens of a firetruck echoed out across that part of the city. Attention turned their way, but Brian, who was in the lead with his longer stride, just blasted darkness over part of the street and pointed at another alleyway.

Lisa was infinitely thankful that they had gone over multiple exit strategies. Getting caught in a dead-end alley with Lung on their tails would have been beyond catastrophic.

The headphones built into her helmet clicked on the third ring. “Secret Keeper?”

“Boss,” Lisa said. She shouldn’t have felt so overjoyed at just the sound of Taylor’s voice, but still, her knees felt weak and she knew that they were going to be alright. “Lung showed up.”

There was a few seconds pause over the line. “I’m having Isabelle move the van onto Lincoln and seventh, the exit near the Quick-Mart. What’s your heading?”

Lisa looked around as they tore out of the alley. “East, towards the Bay.” It was also towards part of the Docks that was mostly occupied by warehouses and abandoned lots.

“There’s a red brick building on the corner of Sixth and Ford. The front door will be open. Run in and move out the back. Rendezvous with Isabelle. Do you copy?”

“Run East. Building on Sixth and Ford, run through, meet Isabelle near Quick-Mart,” Lisa dutifully repeated, and if her voice was broken up by her panting, Taylor didn’t comment.

“Got i--” Brian’s words froze in his throat as a form faded into existence right next to him.

Black Knight probably had the best reflexes in the group, so Lisa wasn’t surprised when he spun on a heel and narrowly avoided the dagger spearing towards his neck. What did surprise her was the impact over her kidneys.

Lisa went sprawling, hands extended to try and catch herself. Sparks flew as her armoured gauntlets scrapped against asphalt..

Spitfire screamed and Lisa felt a blast of warm air rushing over her. Lisa spun around and came face to face with a demon mask, horns over cruel eyes and a grinning face done in crimson and black.

Oni Lee brought a knife up above his head, point down like an ice pick. Lisa tried to dodge, but she was on her back and on the ground.

The knife came down and scraped along the armour over her chest, leaving a gouge in the purple paint. Lisa almost laughed. She started to search her thighs, looking for the weapon Taylor had given her just the day before.

The cape shifted, his knife spinning in his palm until the point was aligned with his thumb. He was going to try and stab her in the face next, she realized.

Then Lisa brought out the handgun Taylor had given her. The device unfolded, two arms springing out of its side until it took the shape of a high-tech crossbow. Oni Lee stared at it. Lisa pulled the trigger.

An actinic beam pierced through the demon. A rain of dust fell across Lisa.

She scrambled to her feet, eyes wide as they searched for her friends and for the return of Oni Lee.

One of his clones was turning to dust, what was left of its body covered in sticky fire. Another was stumbling back from where Alec had probed at it with his scepter, the tip sparking with electricity.

Brian had it easiest of all; he was panting, three dusty piles on the road around him, his oversized sword held in an unfamiliar grip.

Lisa’s focus twitched to a rooftop just across the street where Oni Lee, the real Oni Lee, was watching them.

She snapped off a pair of shots at the cape, both going wide. But the brilliant flashes were enough to make the demon retreat. He would be back. “We need to move,” she said.

“Is everyone okay?” Brian asked. His mask shifted from her to Emily and back.

“I think I might have chipped a nail,” Alec said. No one really listened.

The four of them started moving again, keeping to the shadows under burnt out street lights where they could and slipping through alleys. They weren’t far from their objective. In fact, they had never been far from it. But the run felt interminable with the shadow of Oni Lee hovering over them and the constant threat of Lung at their back.

“There!” Lisa said while pointing.

The building was a squat thing, with red brick walls and an open garage door at the very front. None of the lights around or within were on, leaving the interior cast in near perfect darkness.

“You sure?” Alec asked between hard breaths. “Can’t you find a creepier place?”

“Shut up,” she bit back.

As they raced across the yard and towards the building, a familiar form slid out of the darkness. White Queen’s grey and white outfit was like a beacon, a ray of hope that had Lisa pushing herself to move faster.

“Go through the building and out the back,” Taylor said in as no-nonsense a tone as Lisa had ever heard. “I’ll be fine.”

Lisa just nodded and ran past her boss. The others were quick to follow on her heels. The inside of the warehouse was pitch black except for a single red light at the far end, one placed right next to an opened doorway. Lisa made a beeline for it, ignoring the things shifting in the darkness or the sensation that she was being watched.

“Lisa,” Brian asked as he started jogging next to her. “What’s her power?”

“You’re asking now?” she hissed.

“No time like the present,” Alec said. He was looking into the shadows too, head shifting around as if he could see something. Probably his power feeling nerves. Which could mean all sorts of things.

“Isn’t she a Thinker or something?” Emily asked.

“No. She’s...” Lisa paused, wondering which box what she knew of Taylor fit in. “A striker. She can... um, bring the dead back to life.”

There was a long pause, one that was only broken when they reached the doorway and found a staircase leading down and into a red-lit passageway. There was a breeze coming from within, fresh air. It led outside, somewhere out of sight.

“Shit,” Brian said.

***

The children, the little children in the bright costumes so similar to the heroes of his home. They were insulting, they didn’t know what it meant to toy with a dragon.

They took his money, they burned his casino, they spat on his reputation, and then they dared to leave without fighting him, like cowards.

So he sent his Oni after the children, he told the Oni to kill them. The Oni returned with news, telling of where the children had gone and how to follow them.

Lung sat in the middlemost seat of the SUV, arms crossed over his chest as he waited. The driver was efficient. He cared little for the laws of the road. Lung waited as he and his men rushed to the place where Oni Lee had seen the children run to hide.

The car squealed to a stop and Lung opened his eyes. When his driver looked back to tell him that they had arrived, he blanched before the first word escaped his mouth. There was anger in the dragon’s eyes.

Lung stepped out of the car and looked around. Three more SUVs were parked behind his, men unloading from them with rifles, handguns, pipes and swords. They were going to find the children and the children would die.

“Where are they?” he asked.

“They have gone into that building,” Oni Lee said, and he pointed to the warehouse near where they had parked.

He eyed the red brick building. Was this their hideout? How brazen of them to pick a place to stay so near his own territory, then to spit in his face. He would burn them. The girls he would give to his lieutenants until they were useful no more.

“Oni Lee, go back to the casino. Boys, we will get them,” he said.

His men moved in ahead of him, an arrowhead with him in its centre. A dozen and a half of his best boys.

The children had closed the main doors of the warehouse, leaving only a crack open. His boys had to bend over double to slide under the door. Lung growled at the indignity, but he too dropped to one knee and moved under the passageway.

Darkness reigned within, shadows of machinery and catwalks and motes of dust flitting through a darkness so deep that even his eyes couldn’t pierce it.

Lung waited until all of his men were within before he started moving into the darkness. “Lights,” he ordered.

Some of his boys lowered their guns and turned on flashlights or turned the screens of their phones on to send beams of searing light into the dark.

There was a thunk from above. Lung looked up, only to see a chain going loose and rattling within a steel loop. The huge door at their back fell to the ground with a thunderous boom.

His men screamed, guns were pointed into the dark, lights flashed as they searched for something that wasn’t there.

“Shut up!” Lung roared, and his men stilled.

He was still thinking, thinking of how to tell his men to start searching for the children, when a laugh echoed out into the warehouse. His eyes narrowed. The laugh was high pitched and childish. One of the girls was laughing at him.

“Oh, little dragon of the East, how mighty do you roar,” the voice said. “Don’t you know, it is unwise to put your King at risk? It is a bad gambit.”

“Come here, child, and I will not hurt you,” Lung said.

The laughter returned and he snapped his head around, searching for the place from which it came. “I’m afraid not. Oh, and Lung, you’re almost in check. Pawn to C4. Pawn to A4.”

Before he had time to ask what the child meant, something moved out of the shadows. He saw a black blur falling from above, another one shooting out of the far shadows.

His boys screamed. Guns fired into the dark and splatters of blood arced into the air as the two dark blurs jumped onto two of his boys that had wandered away from the group. The things were fast, but not so fast that he couldn’t study the nearest one.

The man, the thing, was skeletal, ribs showing under skin that was pressed up against bones. Long arms, too long to be normal, ended in claws the length of his forearm. The creature jumped onto one of his men, claws sinking into the flesh between neck and collarbone. A long neck snapped around and teeth with sharpened points flashed as they tore his boy’s neck open.

Then muscular legs with calves and thighs disproportionate to the rest of its frame coiled against his man’s chest and the creature shot back into the dark.

He heard it scurrying in the dark, shadows shifting to take in the monster that had just killed one of his.

Lung growled. He raised a hand, a ball of fire bursting to life over his palm. “Next time, shoot first,” he ordered.

His men nodded. He could smell their fear.

“Your move,” the voice said. She sounded amused.

Lung flung his fire around, splatters of it sticking to walls and floors to light up parts of the warehouse. The boxes and crates and machines turned the deeper parts of the building into a maze of shadows.

“Hrm, what a weak opening,” the voice said. “Pawn to A3. Pawn to G6. Pawn to D4.”The list went on, always pawn, then a number. And every order sent a monster rushing out of the dark.

His boys screamed as more things fell from the ceiling or scuttled across the floor on too many limbs. Rifles and handguns filled the warehouse with the stench of gunpowder. One of the creatures flopped to the ground, its head caved in as a pipe came smashing down. Only, the man that had killed it started screaming as the blood on his face and arms started to sizzle.

Lung grabbed onto a passing blur and earned a harsh bite to his arm before he made fire race along his torso to cook the thing that dared to attack him.

He stared at the creature for a moment before its form registered. It was a child. A kid of maybe ten years. Its skin was pressed close to its skull and its hair was lank and dull. Glassy eyes stared up at Lung as the child gnawed into the flesh of his arm.

He threw the kid to the ground, noting for the first time the way its legs bent in the wrong direction. He ended it with a burst of fire so hot it melted through skin and bone.

Suddenly it was quiet. Lung startled at the lack of noise.

A half dozen of his boys remained. The rest were on the ground, or missing, with only trails that led into the dark marking where they had gone. A few of the creatures were on the ground too, blood so dark it was black leaking out of them.

He took in a deep breath, feeling his clothes constricting around his growing form. “Show yourself!” he roared.

“My my, is the dragon afraid?”

“I fear nothing, child. It is you who will fear when I burn you!” Lung shouted.

“I see.”

Lung waited, but there was only silence to greet him. One of his boys was crying, arms wrapped around a gaping cut along his thigh. Another was shaking so hard his gun was almost falling from his hands. Useless. But soon he would need them no longer. Already he had grown, his skin itching as scales shifted beneath. The dragon wanted out.

He spun when he heard something moving in the dark. A motion in the blackness caught his eye and he roared as he rushed towards it.

“Bishop to E5.”

The thing in the dark moved out to greet him and Lung felt his legs going weak.

A foot with claws that dug into the cement crashed into the ground, then another moved out of the dark, black scales glinting in the light of his fires. A head moved down from the ceiling, supported by a long, sinuous neck as long as Lung was tall. Wings moved behind, tall things with bony pinions.

Its head stopped to hover before him, bone plates covered in barbed spikes framing a pair of brown eyes.

Terribly human brown eyes twisting with pain.

Lung stared at the dragon.

The dragon took in a breath. Lung tensed. The dragon roared, putrid breath like rotting meat washing over Lung as the beast screamed in defiance.

“Checkmate.”

***

I’ll be making a small post in a bit explaining Taylor’s power in full, now that the cat is very much no longer in the bag. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this scene.

Next chapter on Wednesday, barring explosions.

Mucho thanks to eschwartz and ChaoticSky for making the story easier on the eyes And shout-out to the folks from Patreon that popped by to say hi this week!


	10. Chapter 10

Taylor Calvert: Chapter Ten

Isabelle shifted in the driver’s seat. To think that just yesterday she was complaining to herself that driving around was getting dull. Then she had to help Taylor pick through a mound of Asian Bad Boyz to try and find which bits belonged to Lung.

To say that it had been a long night would be an understatement.

“Are you sure?” Isabelle asked.

Taylor shot her a smile, one of her real ones. “I am.”

“I don’t like it.”

Taylor snorted. “Trust me, I’m a mess of nerves right now.”

Isabelle shot her a look, but Taylor didn’t look any more nervous than she’d ever seen her before. In fact, Taylor looked relaxed. She shook her head. It was hard to understand her charge sometimes. “We’re here,” she said.

The van pulled into an empty lot squeezed in between two abandoned stores. Across from them sat the back end of an old factory that was still churning out tins of fish every day. It was a quiet little corner, chosen for that very reason by Taylor and the Boss.

Taylor hopped out of the van and opened the side door. Isabelle unbuckled herself and followed. By the time she was next to Taylor, the girl had pulled on her visored helmet and was securing her hood over her head. There wasn’t so much as an inch of skin visible on her. “On three?” Taylor asked.

Isabelle looked into the van where a trussed-up Asian man with a metal mask crudely duct-taped to his face was resting. The slow rise and fall of his tattooed chest hinted at his condition. She grabbed him under the arm and on Taylor’s count, hauled him out of the van and onto the parking lot’s ground.

“That’s it,” Isabelle said.

“Indeed. I’ll see you later?” she asked.

Isabelle paused, then wrapped her arms around Taylor. She felt Taylor stiffen under her grasp. “If you don’t, I’ll go get you myself.”

A minute later Isabelle was back in the van and pulling out of the lot. In the rear view mirror, she saw Taylor pulling her cell phone up to her ear.

***

Miss Militia shifted on her motorcycle. She wished that she wasn’t heading in with only a truck full of PRT Troopers. Not that she didn’t respect the men and women wearing the black. They were, for the most part, passionate and professional, but they were also intimidating. Another hero by her side, even a Ward, would have been nice.

But they were stretched thin. Something had happened with the ABB the night before and the reports she’d seen suggested that the Knights Errant, a new group of vigilantes that had been flying under the radar for nearly a month, had hit one of the ABB’s bigger fronts.

What the group was thinking was beyond Hannah.

Maybe they were trying to help from outside the law. It was a nice thought, but they had kicked the hornet’s nest. Or perhaps they were a new group of villains that chose to target other villains first.

The truth was she didn’t know, and neither did the PRT. Before last night the Knights Errant were just something of a rumour. Now they were confirmed in the most spectacular way.

She focused on the road, swerving around potholes and keeping an eye on the sparse traffic. For all that she wished she wasn’t the only Protectorate cape on the scene, it wasn’t to be. No amount of wishing would change the way they were now overloaded with work.

The call to come out had arrived just minutes ago, but it had been kicked up the chain until Hannah was told to rush over with a full team kitted for containment. A new cape, tentatively a hero, had captured a villain.

She wished she knew which villain, or how they were captured. She wished she knew a lot of things.

The lot came up before her and she eased off the gas and leaned to the side to make her turn easier.

Experienced eyes scanned the parking lot, going past the only person present (female, and a lump on the ground next to her covered in tape) and the surrounding buildings. It was actually fairly clear, with no flat rooftops that could hide a marksman or shadowy windows behind which a watcher could hide.

She spun off her motorcycle with a practiced move, kicking the stand down with the same motion and shutting off the engine with her off hand. Her power shifted from a shotgun strapped to her back to a camping knife that slitted into a holster on her thigh.

“Impressive dismount,” the cape in white said.

Miss Militia paused to take her in. It was definitely a her; the way her armour curved over her chest and the voice were both dead giveaways. The hard part to place was the girl’s age. Her voice was broken up by an electronic hum from the full-faced visor she wore, and at her height she could have been a fully grown adult.

But something told Miss Militia that this wasn’t the case.

The cape shifted, hands folding over the small of her back and legs placed in an easy parade rest. The short cape she wore, which stopped mid-back, shifted slightly with the motion. “Hello, Miss Militia,” she said.

“Hello,” the heroine replied. She licked her lips and glanced down at the man slumped on the ground. Her eyes fixed first on the steel mask, then on the broad shoulders covered in dragon tattoos. “Is that Lung?”

“It is, yes.” The girl tilted her head to one side, the kind of full-body emoting that was common with capes that wore full-face masks. “Something of a housewarming present.”

“A... housewarming present?” Miss Militia repeated.

“Indeed,” the cape said, sounding amused. “I’ve been told that if you want to introduce yourself to a new community, the best way is to find the biggest, meanest person around and take them out.” She gestured at Lung. “Voila.”

Miss Militia wasn’t sure what to think of that, but protocol was protocol. “Do you mind letting the troopers handle Lung?”

“Of course not,” the cape said as she stepped away from the unmoving man. “Though I would advise that they be careful. I don’t know when he will awaken, and while I can take him down again, this is a rather open area, he could escape.”

Hannah watched the Troopers rush to Lung’s body and check on the cape. Bringing a hand up to the side of her head, she moved back from the scene a little and pressed on her communicator. “Console, this is Miss Militia.”

“We hear you,” Vista’s voice returned.

“I’ve met a new cape. Potentially an independent, tentatively calling her a hero. No name yet. White costume that looks a little like Alexandria’s. No ratings to give just yet. Also, we have Lung in custody.”

“Um, can you repeat that last part?” Vista said.

Miss Militia cracked a smile. “I’ll repeat. We have Lung in custody. Our new friend had him all trussed up for us when we arrived.” Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she saw that the girl was staring her way with interest. “I’ll be in contact. I’ll try to open a dialogue with the new cape.”

“Confirmed,” Vista said. “Good luck!”

She moved a little closer to the cape. “Do you have a name?” With the kind of professional costume she was wearing, and one that reminded her so much of a lighter Alexandria at that, it would have surprised her if the young woman didn’t have a cape identity lined up already.

“White Queen,” the cape said.

“I see, a reference to your powers?”

White Queen nodded. Hannah had hoped that she would give her a little more to work with but it seemed as though the cape had missed the open line of dialogue. “I don’t suppose you would care to follow us to the PRT headquarters? It would save us a lot of paperwork if we could just ask you a few questions.”

This was, usually, the part where the skittish new cape tried to run off. And, as per protocol, she would let her leave the scene. Typical policing procedure often took a back seat to not antagonizing new capes. It was hard enough to get them to join as it was.

“I don’t mind following you. Though I don’t think we can both fit on your motorcycle.”

Hannah blinked. “I see. I’ll get console to send a second transport over in a moment... were you thinking of joining the Protectorate?”

“Not for a few years, I’m afraid,” White Queen said. “I’m a little young to join you. Though I wouldn’t mind meeting the local Wards.”

Miss Militia gave the girl a warm smile, though deep down, she felt as though something was terribly wrong.

***

Vista set down the console’s headset and jumped out of her seat. She had already told the call agent on the line that she would be busy with important matters, so it was okay if she stepped away.

And this was an important matter. A new hero. A new, female hero, that might maybe join the Wards. One that had kicked Lung’s butt!

Keeping her giddiness on a slow simmer, Missy warped over to the common room and looked around. Chris was nowhere to be seen, probably locked up in his lab, but the rest of the crew were all around.

Triumph was rubbing at his helmet and trying to get it shiny again after some jerk threw soda at him on his last patrol. Dean was in his Gallant costume without his helmet. He somehow managed to look extra handsome as he smiled while Dennis said something that was probably rude and crass and stupid. Carlos was off to one side, bent over a few loose sheets that looked like math homework.

And the last member of their happy little group was brooding off in one corner, looking as if time was playing a prank on her by moving too slow. She was probably excited to get out on patrol again. Shadow Stalker had been... effective, the past few days.

“Guys, get ready, we’re having a guest!” Vista announced.

It earned her a few looks, but no one jumped up to start cleaning the place up. Not that it really needed cleaning or anything, but they should have been far more excited. “For fuck’s sake, pipsqueak,” Shadow Stalker said. “We have guests every damned day. Just some tourists here to stare at the animals through the bars.”

Missy rolled her eyes. “No, it’s a new cape. She might be joining us!”

“Huh. Really? Who found her?” Dennis asked. Finally they were showing some interest.

“No one. She called for a transport. Get this, when Miss Militia arrived she found the new cape with Lung knocked out.”

That finally gave the boys (and Shadow Stalker) pause. “Shit,” Carlos said.

Missy grinned at them. It was about time they got excited. She heard something from down the short corridor that led to the main entrance into the Wards quarters, and the light above the door flashed red. A bleeping tone sounded out across the room.

Everyone froze for a moment, then there was a rush as Carlos and Dennis and Dean tried to find their helmets. Missy pressed her skirt down and tried to take back control of her lips. She cursed the PR department that wouldn’t allow her a full-face mask. It would have been so much easier to look mature if they couldn’t point at her still-chubby cheeks.

“Aegis, watch over Clockblocker. If he tries anything, throw him into his room,” Triumph said. “Missy, you greet her first, Dean, help her. Shadow... just don’t kill her. And someone get Chris!”

The door to their section of the building beeped one last time and then opened with a sci-fi sounding hiss. Miss Militia was the first into the room, eyes searching until she counted off every Ward present. She didn’t look overly happy, or mad, she was just sort of blank. “Hello everyone, I have someone I’d like to introduce to you.”

Out stepped the cape that Miss Militia had found. Missy restrained herself, because clapping her hands in glee was not something a big girl did.

“Hello everyone,” the girl said in a smooth voice only somewhat distorted by a robotic twang. The kind of voice that sounded nice and soothing, but also super cool, like something out of one of Dennis’ videogames or Saturday morning cartoons. “My name is White Queen. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Missy stepped forwards and extended a hand. “Hi, I’m Vista,” she said before turning to gesture at Dean. “And this is Gallant.”

White Queen bent down just a little to shake Missy’s hand, but that was because she was really tall. Like, as tall as Miss Militia. Missy took the opportunity to study the girl’s costume because it was awesome.

It looked like a more military version of Alexandria’s costume, only done in white and grey. A little crown with a queen piece on it sat over her full-faced visor and under her hood. “I love your costume!” Missy blurted out.

White Queen paused in the act of shaking Gallant’s hand and looked at Missy, then she laughed. Missy felt her face warming up, but White Queen didn’t seem to notice. “Thank you! I have a... let’s call him an uncle who is really big on costumes. He helped me design mine.”

“Well, he did a good job,” Missy said as she tried to rein in her embarrassment.

“Thank you. I’ll tell him that it’s Vista approved,” she said with an amused lilt to her words.

Carlos pulled up next to Gallant and the other boys moved around the pair of them, forming a half-circle around White Queen. “We heard that you took out Lung, is that true?”

“Boys, we shouldn’t talk about that kind of thing so openly,” Miss Militia said.

White Queen nodded. “I did,” she said. Miss Militia shot her a look, but Missy couldn’t see what was wrong. White Queen wasn’t a Ward yet, it didn’t matter if she spoke about what she did.

“Solo?” Dennis asked. “Oh, and I’m Clockblocker.” He extended a hand only for it to be grabbed by Carlos.

“Don’t freeze the new cape,” Carlos warned.

White Queen laughed and placed a demure hand over her mouth. “No need to worry, Aegis. I’m certain Clockblocker wouldn’t play any sort of tricks on me. And to answer your question,” she paused to grab Clockblocker’s hand with a firm grip. “Yes, I soloed Lung. It took some time. I kept tearing him apart, only his regeneration kept kicking in. It’s surprising what you can learn about human biology while dissecting a man alive.”

“Uh,” Clockblocker said.

White Queen tilted her head to one side, hand still clasped with Clockblocker’s. “I heard that you were something of a prankster. I do hope that doesn’t extend to your friends and guests?”

Clockblock took his hand back as if he’d touched something hot. “No, never!” he squeaked.

That, was, so, cool! Missy squealed to herself. Internally, of course. She couldn’t start cackling at the way she’d cowed Dennis or the smooth way she had become the centre of attention. “So, what’re your powers?”

“I have to admit I’m rather curious myself,” Triumph said. “I’d guess some sort of Brute, going by the costume choice and... well, you got Lung.”

White Queen shook her head. “Now now, a girl’s got to keep some secrets. By the way, you haven’t yet introduced yourself. You’re Triumph, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said while patting the back of his lion themed helmet. “That’s me. And the others are Kid Win, who is busy Tinkering, Aegis, Clockblocker, who you’ve met, and Shadow Stalker.” Triumph turned to point at last.

Sophia was standing, eyes wide behind her visor and stance stuck halfway out of her seat. She looked, for a moment, like a deer caught in the headlights. “Ah, Shadow Stalker,” White Queen said. There was something in her voice, amusement, maybe? Vista couldn’t quite pin the emotion down.

Shadow Stalker got up and stood as tall as she could while White Queen walked through the half circle of Wards, the entire group moving out of her way without even thinking about it. She stopped right in front of Shadow Stalker, then tilted her head to one side as if looking the girl up and down. “What are you doing here?” Shadow Stalker demanded.

Missy balked. Did Sophia know this girl? If that was the case, she’d probably ruined the Wards’ image already. She started to step up between the two of them. Maybe if she said something now she could change White Queen’s mind?

“Now, now, Stalker. I was given the opportunity to visit the Wards and I took it, that’s all,” she said.

Shadow Stalker tilted her head to one side. “And will you? I didn’t peg you as the goody-two-shoes sort.”

“Will I what? Join? Of course not. On the other hand...” White Queen reached into her costume and, from a cleverly hidden compartment on a vambrace, pulled out a small stack of shiny, embossed cards. “Vista, could you be a dear and hand them out to the others?”

Vista took the pile of cards before even thinking about it. She stared down at them, at the symbol of a chess piece on one side and the name ‘White Queen’ printed across the surface. Underneath was contact information. “Uh. Are these business cards?”

“They are indeed. In case you ever tire of the Wards programme.”

Missy stared up at the girl that had walked into their midst as if she owned the place and was now... trying to recruit them. “Can you do that?” she asked.

She had the impression White Queen was smiling behind the visor. “It’s not against any law, if that’s what you’re asking. Nor is my organization villainous in nature. You, especially, Vista, are very interesting. A strong power, years of experience, lots of good deeds and PR. And you’ve tangled with the likes of Hookwolf before and came out of it with only a few scars. An impressive record.”

Shadow Stalker stared, then she tilted her head back and started to laugh. It was a sound so foreign and strange that it made Missy pause. She’s never heard Sophia laugh like that before. “Christ, the balls on you! Just, waltz in like you fucking own the place then hand out invitations to your little club. What, will you try and get us with better benefits?”

White Queen nodded. “I could. Ten thousand signing bonus, two thousand a month, and a guaranteed two thousand dollars per outing, of which you would participate in at least two a month. We also have health care, dental and even housing available if you need it.”

“You can’t do that, we have contracts,” Dennis said.

“We have lawyers,” White Queen pointed out as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Mis Militia moved up and snatched the business cards from out of Missy’s hands. “We invited you here in good faith,” she said.

Missy had never seen Hannah angry before, but the woman was red in the face and as tense as she’d ever seen her.

“And my offer was made in good faith too. We would pay considerably more for a parahuman with your level of experience and dedication, if that makes you feel better.”

“It’s not about money,” Miss Militia gritted out.

“Oh? Then what is it about? Stopping crime? Looking good for the cameras? Let’s face it, Miss Militia, the Wards are just a training camp for child soldiers.” She took a step back from the irate cape. “And if it’s about the quality of the soldier, then I’m certain we can offer better training and equipment than the PRT.”

The two heroines stared at each other and Missy could almost feel the tension in the air.

“At least we get action figures,” Dennis finally blurted out.

White Queen burst out laughing. “That’s true. You do have very pretty action figures.”

They were saved from any further tension when Armsmaster walked into the room without so much as a ‘by your leave’. He stood a few feet away from White Queen and stared at her as if inspecting every minute detail of her costume. “The director will see you now,” he said.

“Very well. Good-bye everyone. Give me a call when you get tired of being pawns and want to make a real difference. To be the knights you always wanted to be.”

***

So, I’ve been meaning to try all sorts of things that I’ve never seen a Worm fanfic do. This was one of them. It takes serious testicles to try and recruit someone right in front of their superiors. And it’s a win-win for Taylor, so that’s even better!

Mucho thanks to eschwartz and ChaoticSky for making the story easier on the eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

Taylor Calvert: Chapter Eleven

The girl, White Queen, was carrying Tinkertech. He knew it the moment he laid eyes on her. The suit was just a disguise. He couldn’t pick out any energy signature except from her helmet and those were tied to what he suspected was a communications suite. Pretty standard gear for a new Tinker.

But she was carrying something else, a gun if he had to guess, in the small of her back. Her costume hid it well, but not well enough that he couldn’t spot it.

“Are you a Tinker?” he asked.

White Queen looked up from her inspection of the corridor to stare at him. “No,” she said.

“But you do carry Tinkertech?” he asked.

“Armsmaster, I don’t believe I’m obligated to inform you of that,” she said.

He thought for a moment. She was, essentially, correct. As a non-affiliated parahuman, one that was ostensibly not being charged with any criminal act, she had the right to carry Tinkertech on her person without interference by the local Protectorate of PRT unless said Tinkertech posed a danger to those around her. Still, he was curious to know what, exactly, she had on her person. “What are you carrying?”

“A communication suite and a handgun,” she said.

He nodded. “I’ll have to confiscate that handgun during your meeting with the Director,” he said.

The girl stopped walking so suddenly that Armsmaster didn’t notice until he was a few steps ahead. He turned, taking in the faceless visor that was looking right his way. “No.”

“What?” he asked.

“I refuse to allow you to disarm me.”

Armsmaster started to cross his arms, then let them fall to his sides. “You’re about to go see the director.”

She nodded. “Yes. I didn’t ask to see her, she invited me. Also, as per your own protocol you are not to antagonize an unaffiliated parahuman by taking away any materials that belong to that cape, especially Tinkertech. I believe it’s section two, subsection seven of the non-hostility protocols? As long as I don’t threaten anyone, there’s no reason for you to take my equipment away.”

He started searching for that section of the PRT’s protocols with a few flicks of his eyes. It took him aback that she knew them so well, but the protocols were available to the public. “But you’re not a Tinker.”

“There’s nothing in the regulations about that.”

He huffed. “Then how did you acquire the Tinkertech that you now have?”

She tilted her head to the side. “I obtained it legally. Do I need to show you my receipt?”

“No. Do you have a license to carry a firearm in this state?” he asked.

She nodded. “I can’t show you any documentation of the sort without compromising my civilian identity. I suppose you’ll just have to trust me.”

The relevant passage of the Protectorate regulations came up and he skimmed through them. She was, essentially, correct. “It would make me and the Director feel much safer if you handed the weapon over.”

“It would make me feel much safer if I had the weapon on my person at all times,” she said. White Queen stood a little taller. “Will I have to politely decline the Director’s invitation? If she doesn’t want to see me now, I can always arrange for a meeting on my own terms at a later date.”

“No,” he folded. “Come.”

Director Piggot’s office was just around the corner, separated by a lounge area where a secretary in a freshly pressed suit waited. Armsmaster paused before the secretary’s desk. “White Queen for the Director,” he said.

“Yes sir, she’s waiting for you now.” The secretary gestured to Piggot’s office. Armsmaster nodded once and stepped to the door, opening it for the young lady that was following behind him.

Piggot was behind her massive desk, firmly planted in her seat with one arm crossed over her chest and the other thumbing her chin. Eyes darkened by too many hours at work scanned over Armsmaster then snapped to the new cape. “You’re White Queen, I presume?” she asked.

“Indeed,” the cape said.

“Welcome to the PRT East North-East. My name is Emily Piggot, Director of the local PRT,” Piggot said. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances.”

The cape stood behind one of the two chairs before the Director’s office, back straight and legs placed in a parade rest. “Oh? I thought this would be a far more joyous occasion,” she said.

Armsmaster moved to stand behind and to the right of the Director. He mimicked White Queen’s stance. His job was to gauge her reactions. It was just unfortunate that with her full face mask his lie detector would have difficulty reading her expressions. He could do it with her voice alone, but it would take a while. Longer if she decided to change the settings on her voice modulator.

Piggot’s face scrunched up in distaste for a moment. “I truly wish it were. Unfortunately, what many people don’t realise is that Brockton Bay has been walking a tightrope for some time. The heroes are outnumbered or overpowered by most gangs. We have been able to keep something of a truce for the past few years, but now you’ve just torn that apart.”

“That was, perhaps, the strangest recruitment pitch I have ever heard,” White Queen said. “May I sit, Director?”

Piggot gestured at the seat across from her and waited for the girl to sit down. “It’s not really a recruitment pitch. Don’t get me wrong, I want you in my Wards. I just want you to know that your actions have consequences. Not only did you take out one of the leaders of a gang, you also did it without rising a fuss. We didn’t know that Lung was out of the picture until Miss Militia arrived to pick you up. You did well in taking him out with so little collateral damage, but still, we expect the news to break soon enough. As soon as that happens the Empire will go on the warpath. Smaller gangs, like the Merchants and a few independant villains will want pieces of the ABB. It’s going to turn into a bloodbath.”

“And you think it’s my fault?” White Queen said.

“You disagree?”

White Queen paused for a moment, as if thinking it over. “Director, what is the mandate of the PRT?”

One of Piggot’s eyebrows perked up. “Our mandate is to serve and protect the American people from the dangers posed by local and international parahuman threats.” The words were rote, as if quoted out of a textbook.

“Do the gangs count as threats?”

She nodded. “Of course they do.”

“So, if the gangs start getting a little rowdy over the capture of one of their leaders, I would suggest you do your job.”

Armsmaster could hear the Director’s teeth grinding together and he didn’t need his software to guess that White Queen had angered her. “It’s not that simple.”

“Perhaps it isn’t,” White Queen said with an easy shrug. “Perhaps tax-payer dollars would be better spent elsewhere. I don’t have all the solutions for you, Director. All I did was capture, then hand over, one of Brockton Bay’s greatest threats to you on a silver platter. Do with him as you wish.”

Piggot was still steaming, so Armsmaster took the opportunity to put one of his plans into play. “You intend to take credit for capturing Lung?” he asked.

White Queen looked at him. “Yes.”

“I would advise against it. Even if you were to join the Wards, it would be difficult to keep you safe. Moreso for your friends and family.” He nodded as if it was self-evident. “It might be best if you allowed someone else to take the credit. For example a higher ranking member of the Protectorate. Not only would the public be more likely to believe it, it would also serve to keep you safe.”

“No.”

Armsmaster frowned. “But it makes sense. If you join the Wards, parents would be worried over your actions and might refrain from allowing their children to join in the future. It wouldn’t do to miss out on opportunities just because you want to take credit over the capture of Lung.”

“You seem to be operating under the impression that I care about your PR. Or that I will join your Wards team.”

Piggot drew back a little in her seat. “You don’t intend to join the Wards?”

“I think I’ve made that clear enough, yes,” White Queen said.

“Miss Militia said you had some interest in meeting the local team,” the Director said.

“Of course. I wanted to meet them to offer them a position on my own team.”

Armsmaster blinked. That was rather forward of her. He knew that there was a precedent for Wards leaving to join other groups but it was hardly common. He would have to look into that.

“I see,” Piggot said. Her knuckles went white where they were sitting on her lap. “And did you consider the repercussions of doing so?”

“I did not coerce, threaten, blackmail, or assault your Wards; nor did I use any Master powers on them. I made an offer in good faith. I’m sure that the Wards common area is under surveillance. Look at the footage if you must. If I’m in the wrong we can discuss it like civilised people. Otherwise, other than being somewhat impolite, what I did wasn’t wrong.”

Piggot’s jaw moved as she contemplated the girl across from her. “I see. Well, seeing as how you have no intention of joining the Wards, I believe we are going to have some trouble.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“It wouldn’t be difficult to level an accusation of assault and battery against you. Not to mention kidnapping.”

White Queen went completely, utterly still for a few long seconds. “You want to drag me to court because I, supposedly, attacked Lung, apprehended him, and, in your own words, kidnapped him? I can’t see who else it could be.”

“Indeed. Lung, as distasteful as he might be, still has rights.”

“We are talking about the man who, at this very moment, runs an organization that enslaves young and oftentimes underaged women, sells their bodies for a few months, then proceeds to use them to fabricate drugs. The man who once took on your entire Protectorate and won and who, for the better part of five years, has run roughshod over the city that you are meant to protect. Just to clarify, that is the man you’re accusing me of kidnapping?”

Piggot’s frown had grown as the girl spoke. “Yes, him.”

“I see,” the girl said. She slumped a little in her seat. “And you’d drag me off to a cell, of course. Probably even contact my dad. And if I join the Wards, what then?”

Piggot’s frown finally turned into a grin, though it was rather vicious. “Then, because you would be a member of our organization, we would be able to better protect you. I still have to ask you some pertinent questions about how, exactly, you captured Lung in the first place.”

Armsmaster was about to start a spiel about the benefits of the Wards when his suit gave off a ping. It had caught a signal being transmitted. Blinking a few times, he brought up his the readings from the signal and was able to pinpoint its location, though decrypting it would take some time. “You just sent a datafile,” he said.

Piggot turned to look at him. “What?”

“Her suit has a comms system. Probably Tinkertech. It just sent a file,” he explained. “White Queen, could you explain the contents of the file?”

“A recording of our conversation until now.”

Piggot tensed. “Who did you send it to?” she growled.

“That, I believe, is no concern of yours.”

Piggot’s closed fist slammed on her desk. “You just asked me if Parahumans acting out of line was my business or not. It is. So tell me who you just contacted. There are laws about recording people like this. I could you arrested.”

White Queen snorted. “I want to speak with my lawyer.”

“What?” Piggot asked.

“I want to speak with my lawyer. You did just threaten to arrest me if I didn’t comply. You also accused me of being a parahuman with no proof. And you accused me of kidnapping a known criminal. If you really want to go on with this charade of an interrogation--the interrogation of a minor, no less--then I want my lawyer.”

Piggot sighed. “We can provide you with a public defender. Of course, we wouldn’t have to if you would just answer some of our questions. We don’t want to antagonise you, we just need to know some things. How you look out Lung, why, what your powers are and so on. There’s no need for us to actually arrest you.”

Before she could really build steam someone knocked on the office door. A moment later it cracked open and Piggot’s secretary poked his head in. “Um, Director, there’s someone here to see you.”

“Tell them I don’t have time,” she shot back.

“Uh, yes ma’am,” the secretary said before shutting the door.

White Queen turned away from the doorway and back to the Director. “Are you sure you don’t want to take that? It might be important.”

Piggot glowered at her. Then the door slammed open.

Armsmaster reached to his back to pull out his halberd but paused when he saw the people standing in the doorway. Unless supervillains wore tailored italian suits, then he doubted the trio of men standing by the door were here to attack them.

They weren't alone, either. Just behind the men was a middle-aged woman in a tight business suit with a pin over one lapel. He recognized the symbol of the Youth Guard almost instantly. “What’s this?” he asked.

“This,” the man at the front said, “is a travesty, a violation of my client’s rights of the highest order.” He stepped up to Piggot’s desk and, with no fanfare, dropped his suitcase atop it. “I’m Quinn Calle, Ms. White Queen’s attorney. These are my associates, and that fine lady is Debrah. She’s a representative from the local Youth Guard.”

“Hello Mr. Calle,” White Queen said as she stood up. She lifted both arms and gave the man a quick hug. “You won’t believe how happy I am to see you.”

“And I you!” he said. “You’re one of my most... interesting clients.”

Piggot stood up for the first time since the meeting with White Queen began. “Mr. Calle, I don’t recall giving you permission to enter.”

“And I, Miss Piggot, don’t recall giving you the right to accuse my client of kidnapping a known sex-trafficker and murderer.”

The Director looked like she was about to lunge and wring the man’s neck. “It’s Director.”

“Of course, my apologies,” the lawyer said without sounding apologetic in the least. “Now, no matter how much I love my favourite client here, she does still pay me by the minute.” With a flick of his thumbs he opened his briefcase, then he gave Armsmaster and Piggot a smile that would make a shark blush. “So shall we get started?”

“Of course,” White Queen said. “Now, director, I do believe you had some questions for me?”

***

“So, if the gangs start getting a little rowdy over the capture of one of their leaders, I would suggest you do your job.”

That’s the line that pretty much started this entire story, and it only took... nearly 30k to get to it.

Mucho thanks to eschwartz and ChaoticSky for making the story easier on the eyes.

Next chapter on Monday. Also, I should go back to writing my other story. I recall people reading that one too.


	12. Chapter 12

Taylor Calvert: Chapter Twelve

Piggot looked across the desk to her two highest ranked subordinates. Armsmaster was off in his own land of Tinker-babble and daydreams, but Hannah, Miss Militia, was concentrating fully on the problem at hand.

“What do we know about her?” Piggot asked. There was no need to ask what ‘her’ she was talking about. The White Queen had waltzed into the PRT headquarters like she owned the place, made a mess, then ran off without looking over her shoulder.

Hannah sighed. “When I found her she was alone except for Lung. She was polite and very... restrained.”

“Restrained?” Armsmaster asked.

“She was very relaxed. No signs of nervousness or anything.” Hannah shrugged. “She accepted a ride over to the PRT to visit the wards. I thought she was interested.”

“And that’s when she offered our Wards work?” Piggot asked. She could feel the low thrum of a headache building in the back of her head. Stress, probably. She had other things to worry about, other than an uppity teenager with too much confidence for her own good. But then, that teenager was a mystery and a pain in the ass. Too many things didn’t add up with White Queen, and when combined with an attitude that suggested an underlying dislike for the PRT...

Hannah reached into her fatigues and pulled out a business card. She placed it on the table for all to see.

“Dammit,” Piggot said. “Had I known before she stepped into my office...” She sighed. “Armsmaster, what can you tell me about her tech?”

“Pretty standard equipment. Not off the shelf, but nothing extraordinary. Just about any Tinker could have made the communication suite she used. I didn’t have enough time to inspect her handgun to see what it was like. Power source suggests that it’s fairly advanced. I sent my scans and notes to Dragon, she thinks the communication gear might be Toybox’s work.”

“So, more resources we don’t know about. Something about this makes no sense,” Piggot said.

Armsmaster nodded. “With the resources she displayed, it doesn’t make sense for her to place herself in the middle of the PRT headquarters. It’s possible she was here for an ulterior motive. Perhaps to recruit the Wards?”

“That’s a lot of work to give them some business cards,” Hannah pointed out.

Piggot started to get an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Could she be trying to discredit us?”

Armsmaster frowned. “That is possible. Though we can’t say anything with certainty after just one meeting.”

“We’ll have to put this aside,” Piggot said. “Lung takes priority for now. In the meantime, tell the Wards to be careful around her. Maybe remind them of the statistics of joining a non-affiliated group and the consequences of breaking off from the Protectorate.”

Hannah frowned, eyes focused on the ground. “Okay,” she said. “And her threat rating?”

Piggot frowned and pulled up the forms for a new cape. One had already been partially filled for White Queen with candid images of the cape, her height and approximate weight and notes on the equipment she carried. “Thinker seven until we have an idea of how she took down Lung.” She looked at the two parahumans in the room. “I have a feeling that this girl is going to be trouble.”

***

Alec sighed. He couldn’t play his game with Brian pacing back and forth in front of the TV like some sort of overeager mother-hen.

“It doesn’t make sense,” the black guy was saying. “Her power has to be more than just... raising the dead.”

Lisa was lounging on the La-Z-Boy, legs draped over the arm and head lolled back to stare at the ceiling. Alec gave the position a seven out of ten for its display of how few fucks she gave. “It’s none of our business what her power is, Brian.”

“Of course it is!” he said before pacing back across the living room. “We work for her, with her, we should know what kind of risks we’re taking here.”

Alec ground his teeth together when, after he passed, the words ‘YOU DIED’ were fading onto the screen. “Dammit.”

“Brian, she’s the boss, she can have a few secrets.”

Brian paused on his way back to the other side of the room, right in front of the TV, again. “You know what her power is, right?” he asked as he spun towards Lisa.

Alec wondered how much shit he’d be in if he made Brian’s legs give out under him. Then he heard a giggle and turned to his left. Emily had a hand pressed over her mouth and was staring between Brian and Alec. He narrowed his eyes. He was tempted to have her poke herself in the nose, but she cooked his dinner.

Taking a deep breath, Alec dropped his controller. “For fuck’s sake, Brian, sit down. No one cares that the boss lady makes zombies.”

“She doesn’t make zombies,” Lisa said.

Alec snorted. “If it waddles like a duck and eats brains like a duck, it’s a zombie.”

“Guys,” Emily said, her voice as quiet as usual, but she still managed to capture the group’s attention. “Shouldn’t we be more worried? I... I don’t know what Taylor’s powers are, but that doesn’t matter. She stayed behind to stop Lung from getting to us. Doesn’t that... doesn’t that count for something? And she might be hurt, or, or dead. Lung is kind of scary.”

Alec contemplated that for a moment. If the boss lady had turned into a brisket, that would mean that he was out of a job. Which sucked. The loft was pretty cushy. He’d have to move. Would the others notice if he packed the Xbox away?

“She’s not dead,” Lisa said. “I think Isabelle would have called us if she’d... if she’d died or been hurt badly.”

Alec shrugged. Well, if the boss lady wasn’t dead.... he unpaused his game.

Lisa snorted from her spot on the Lay-Z-Boy. “Seriously, Alec?”

“Fuck off, Lisa,” he said. He didn’t have time for her shit. He’d been trying to murder the same boss all morning.

Brian grumbled something that was probably rude and stomped off to the kitchen. “I’ll go after him,” Emily said. “I think he just needs to vent a bit. You know, last night was really stressful. I’ll go listen to him for a bit, okay?”

Alec waved her off and his character on-screen almost lost his head. He was vaguely aware of Emily getting up and moving towards the kitchen after that.

“This group’s actually coming together rather nicely, all things considered,” Lisa said to the ceiling.

“Hmm,” he replied. This next bit in his game required some particularly attentive button mashing. “Yeah.”

“I mean, other than your sociopathic tendencies, Brian’s knack for taking things too seriously, Emily’s... Emily-ness and my inability to let people have secrets, we’re doing pretty well.”

“Uh-huh.”

Alec heard a beeping sound and saw Lisa flop around on the couch. She was either having a seizure or trying to pull out her phone from her too-tight jeans. He didn’t have time for that, he had to pay attention to the way the boss was swinging its giant sword or he’d have to restart again.

“Taylor’s coming,” Lisa said and she jumped to her feet and walked towards the kitchen, cutting off his view of the screen just as he had to... and then the words ‘YOU DIED’ flashed again.

“Fuck,” he said.

***

Lisa watched Emily patting Brian’s back a few more times. He looked better now that he’d gotten some of his worries off his chest. Emily could sympathise with people. She wasn’t the sort of girl that had been in a leadership position before, but she was the sort to imagine the stress her friends were under.

So Lisa paused, letting the scene play out as Emily put herself in Brian’s shoes and tried to comfort him as best she could.

The girl was a fucking saint. Lisa had no clue where Taylor had found her, but she was glad that their fearless leader had manipulated her into the team.

Emily looked up when Lisa walked into the kitchen, face stretched into a huge grin. “Taylor’s on her way over,” Lisa said. “I think it’s mostly good news.”

Brian’s frown still marred his features, but he nodded at the news. “Good. It’s good that she’s alive. And I have questions for her, so it’s good that she’s coming around.”

Lisa’s grin faded away in an instant. “Brian... she doesn’t owe us anything, she doesn’t need to answer your questions.”

“She owes us the right to know what we got into,” he said while pointing a calloused finger in Lisa’s face. “Something is fishy about that girl.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “No shit. She’s got more secrets than you could shake a stick at. But she’s our boss, and she stuck her neck out to keep us from getting immolated by the local rage dragon. I think we can afford to cut her some slack.”

The sound of a door opening in the next room over cut their argument off at the knees. “Hello, everyone,” Taylor’s voice called.

“Guys,” Alec’s voice droned from the living room. “Boss is here.”

“Thank you, Alec, I’m certain they wouldn’t have been able to guess at my presence without your aid,” Taylor replied.

Grinning, Lisa stepped past Brian and moved back into the living room where Taylor was depositing some plastic bags onto the table before Alec. The boy kept moving his head to the side every time Taylor bent down to put something on the table until, finally, he huffed, paused his game, and glared at Taylor.

“Food?” Lisa asked. She hardly needed her power to pick out the scent of fried noodles and wonton soup. “Chinese. That’s... ironic,” she said.

Taylor smiled in return. “I thought so too. We could all use a bit of celebration after last night and this morning. After all, it’s not every day that you get to run away from and fight one of the scariest capes in the Bay.”

She picked up a box with what might have been general tao chicken and let herself flop down into the seat next to Alec. “Please, serve yourselves.”

Alec shrugged and started searching through the bags, muttering to himself about bosses and giant swords. Lisa was pretty sure he wasn’t complaining about Taylor so much as his game-time being interrupted. Emily joined him soon enough, taking the time to organize all the food and discard the empty bags.

Taylor spun her chopsticks around her fingers like a drummer about to start hammering away, then dug in with quick, precise bites. She only started paying more attention when Brian sat across from her, legs spread with his elbows resting on his knees. “You fought Lung?” he asked.

She raised one trimmed eyebrow at the boy’s attitude. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“Could you explain that?”

Lisa winced. Brian was being more antagonistic than she would have hoped. Honestly, she should have seen this coming and curbed it earlier. He wanted to be in charge. To have Taylor suddenly be stronger than him, to take out the big bad without his help, irked him. But it was more than just that. He really wanted to trust in the team, and he couldn’t do that if he couldn’t trust Taylor.

“Brian,” Lisa started.

“It’s fine, Lisa,” Taylor said with her easy smile. “Brian’s allowed to ask. And yes, Brian, I could explain. Though I would rather not.”

He frowned at her then looked at the others who were all hesitating over their meals. Except Alec, but that wasn’t so unusual. “Why?”

“Honestly? Because my power is kind of scary,” Taylor said.

His frown deepened. “Lisa said it was the ability to raise the dead.”

“Is that true?” Emily asked. There was something... hopeful in her voice, but also afraid. She had loved ones who had passed away, loved ones she would love to see again. Lisa could sympathize.

Taylor sighed and shot Lisa a look that wasn’t quite reproachful. More like resigned to the talk she was going to have. “Yes, Emily, I can. Just ask Lisa here.”

Three pairs of eyes shot to Lisa. Alec’s were the widest. “You’re a zombie?” he croaked.

Taylor actually giggled at that, the noise so bizarre in their conversation that the room’s attention shifted right back to her. She moved her hand away from her mouth and shook her head. “I’m afraid that Lisa’s desire to bite you is in no way my fault,” she said. “And no, she’s not a zombie. My power has, let’s call them limitations. Lisa called me just before she died. I got to her within a half hour of her heart and brain functions stopping. Any damages suffered from deterioration during that short a time would be unnoticable. I can heal anyone that is dead, including cranial injuries, though they tend to be more time consuming.”

Emily shifted in her seat. “So someone who’s not so, uh,” she fumbled for words.

“Fresh?” Alec suggested, earning himself a weak glare from the girl.

“Fresh,” she finally said. “Wouldn’t be like Lisa?”

Taylor nodded. “Essentially, yes. The things that make you you, beyond your physical appearance, are all in the brain. When it starts decomposing, that information is lost. Anyone I try to bring back after a few hours will have lingering issues. More than that and they would be essentially brain-dead.”

“That’s reassuring,” Brian said. “But it doesn’t explain how you killed Lung.”

Taylor blinked. “Killed? Lung is in PRT custody right now. I didn’t kill him,” she lied.

Lisa swallowed. That was the first time she caught Taylor in an outright lie. She had a tendency to dance around the topics she was talking about, but Lisa had never caught her in a lie before. And she hadn’t answered the underlying question. “H-he’s in custody? Really? How did that go?”

Taylor shot her an easy smile, but by the tiny shift in her shoulders Lisa knew she was more relieved than she let on. “Very well. At first. I handed him over to Miss Militia, was offered a tour of the Wards facility, and decided to take her up on it.”

“Really?” Emily asked.

“Indeed. Miss Militia was less than pleased when I started trying to recruit the Wards.”

Alec choked on his noodles. Taylor and Emily both patted him on the back until he took in a deep gulp of air. “Shit. Boss, you’re the boss.”

Taylor nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“What did they do after that? Were you kicked out?” Emily asked.

“No, no. It wasn’t illegal or anything, merely... rude. I met the Director afterwards. She tried to recruit me in turn and, when I refused, tried to force the matter.” Taylor tilted her head to the side as if remembering something. “I had to call in some lawyers to resolve the issue. I do believe I will be suing the PRT over a few matters in the near future.” She took another bite of her chicken.

Lisa shook her head. She could almost imagine the scene. Taylor with her calm and poise wouldn’t have any trouble manipulating a conversation until someone said something they shouldn’t.

Now that Lung was in custody the only problem was if they’d notice that he had died. Or if he would spill anything once they sat him down to talk. Lisa felt her brow furrowing a little. That was a loose end. Not the sort of thing she’d expect Taylor to leave out in the open like that. Not unless...

A phone rang, jarring Lisa out of her thoughts. Taylor pulled a smartphone from a pocket and pressed it against her ear. Lisa could have pinpointed the moment that whatever Taylor heard registered.

“Alec,” she said. “Put the news on.”

“But the remote’s stuck in the...” he cut himself off when he saw the expressionless face of their boss, eyes burrowing into his. “News, yup,” he said before shifting around to find the remote.

“Trouble?” Brian asked.

“Yes,” she said succinctly. “The ABB are trying to break Lung out of PRT holding. They had a third parahuman we, I, wasn’t aware of. This will ruin quite a few plans.”

Lisa thought as Alec turned the TV to the satellite feed and started searching for an all-day news channel. Taylor had definitely killed Lung, but she brought him back, just like she did with her.

Now she was worried that Lung would be broken out. She wanted Lung to stay in custody for a while longer. She wanted the PRT to have Lung. She wasn’t afraid to kill her enemies. Lisa blinked as everything came into focus like an optical illusion unravelling before her mind’s eye.

Lung was supposed to die in PRT custody. Whether by some outside trigger or some sort of device Taylor had planted in him she didn’t know, but the bad press was what she was aiming for, that and the elimination of a threat.

Lung wasn’t going to speak about Taylor because Taylor mastered him.

Taylor could master those she raised from the dead.

The blood drained from her face as she jumped to the next obvious conclusion.

On the TV, a news reporter was droning on about a bomb threat at a police department. The ABB were responding to the Knights Errant’s actions by threatening the city if their boss wasn’t released.

She heard a distant pop, like a firecracker going off.

Lisa chewed on the next bite of her chicken, the food tasteless in her mouth. Was she Mastered? The question repeated itself again and again.

It would make sense. How best to have a Thinker in your employ than to Master her into serving you?

And if she was to be Mastered in some way, Lisa could think of few people better than Taylor. Between being dead and serving Taylor, there were worse fates, worse people. Taylor might have been creepy, at times, but she was the picture of poise and grace, she was the kind of leader Lisa hoped to be one day, and she was becoming something of a friend, not just to her, but to all of her Knights.

The news changed to a breaking story. A detonation right on the edge of Empire territory. Capes on the scene. PRT responding. The explosion wasn’t normal, some sort of fire that didn’t consume anything except biological matter.

She dropped her fork and it rattled in the cardboard box she was holding in a limp grip. She wasn’t paying attention to the news cast anymore. Her thoughts were looping back to what she’d just told herself.

“Shit,” Alec said.

She couldn’t help but agree.

***

Mucho thanks to eschwartz and ChaoticSky for making the story easier on the eyes.

Next chapter should come out on Wednesday. It’s gonna be a short interlude of sorts.


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